


Flying Too Close to the Sun

by WednesdaysDaughter



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Character Study, Crew as Family, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, POV Second Person, Past Child Abuse, Star Trek Beyond, Star Trek: Into Darkness, Tarsus IV
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-23
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-10 15:55:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 27,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7851535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WednesdaysDaughter/pseuds/WednesdaysDaughter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pike said you could be an officer in four years, but that’s not good enough. He has no idea what he’s started with that dare. Starfleet knew George Kirk, but they don’t know you. It happens faster than you can track it – your mind racing from denial to acceptance until you’re vibrating with excitement. </p><p>It feels like falling, tastes like dust and blood and for a moment you’re approaching that cliff but this time you don’t jump out.</p><p>This time, you follow it down and everything changes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You'll Drink Yourself To Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been seven months since I've written anything. Well, maybe the occasional poem here or there, but I mean I don't count those. I've had this idea in my head for months and then life said "um no, you cannot write this right now" so I woke up this morning feeling motivated so we're gonna try this again. 
> 
> I fell in love with 2nd person POV and I've used it before in my Stucky series so it was both easy and somewhat difficult to begin this. I hope I haven't lost my touch.

In another universe, you have his eyes.

She lies awake at night when the house is silent and you’ve slipped into sleep recalling their depth and warmth: Warmth absent in the turbulent waves of blue you stare at her with when you think she’s about to break.

It’s the first time radiation leaves its mark on you.

Iowa feels like the furthest thing from space, but you stare out your window, fingers outstretched, and it feels closer than your mother sleeping down the hall. She stays as long as she can bare and seven years after you were born she’s surrounded by the darkness once more, but all you can see is yellow grass and dirt.

You eagerly await your mother’s return and pass the time playing with Sam and avoiding Frank who smells of beer and blood. You know he’s not your father: Sam reminds you every second that you’re alive that George Kirk died in space saving countless lives.

“You wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for Dad. Don’t forget it.” Sam spits into the dirt after Frank realizes the dishes haven’t been done. Busted lip and hard eyes, Sam puts his arm around you and pushes you outside where the sun is hot, but safe.

“That man is not our father.”

\- - - - - - - - - -

When she comes back, she doesn’t stay long.

She hugs you and Sam and lets Frank kiss her cheek before launching into her latest adventure beyond the planet. You listen, awestruck, and Sam smiles faintly at you when she ruffles your golden hair with every question you throw at her. Frank stews in the background, but bites his tongue and plays the part until she leaves two months before your eleventh birthday.

It gets worse the longer she’s gone until something breaks and you’re left watching Sam’s back walk further away. He vanishes in the horizon, but his words linger like a poison in your blood. There is no radiation, but you’re changed nonetheless.

“You do what he says; you’re a good kid Jim. He won’t hurt you.”

He’s not wrong.

You do your chores, do well in school, don’t talk back… a good kid is what everyone wanted right? Bitter over the death of a man you never knew, Sam faced the world with gritted teeth and a chip on his shoulder big enough to shade you from the brunt of Frank’s rage. That shade is suddenly gone and your skin heats beneath the unforgiving sun.

As Sam fades away something in you snaps.

A switch is flipped and you’re racing down a dirt road in a dead man’s car before you’ve taken another breath. You fly past Sam and the sirens nearly drown out the classical music that’s pushing you to go faster, go farther. Don’t stop.

Your heart is beating so fast it might burst from your chest and you hope the blood stains the leather. The wind nearly blinds you with each second put between who you are in this moment and who you’ll never be again.

Good kids get abandoned.

If being good makes everyone you love leave, then you’re done with that. You’ll be so bad they’ll have to come back – or better yet, you’ll be so bad they won’t want to.

You don’t need anyone.

A sharp turn pulls you back to the moment and you’re running out of road. Years from now when you’ve made a friend in a man with nothing left but his flask, he’ll ask you what you were thinking as you drove towards the cliff.

You’ll just laugh and shrug until the question fades into the taste of bourbon on your lips. You’re too twisted to remember exactly what was running through your head back then.

In this moment, with the cliff just seconds from your reach, you’re high on adrenaline and satisfaction as you leap from the car with just enough time to catch yourself on the ledge. The sound of destruction lights something in your veins that you’ll spend your whole life chasing until death finally catches up.

You toss a glance over your shoulder to see the carnage and give your name to the officer who chased you around an empty landscape.

“My name is James Tiberius Kirk.”

And Icarus has nothing on you.

\- - - - - - - - - - -

Winona Kirk throws Frank to the curb when she sees the bruises on your back.

She is holy fire falling from the sky when she shoves him into the dirt and nearly cracks open his skull with her broken fist. You’re in awe of her fury and you feel more like her son than anyone else’s in that moment. Held together by rusty wire and stubborn resilience, Winona Kirk was more than her dead husband’s sacrifice.

She was your mother.

Starfleet offers to look the other way and let her bring you aboard the Lexington for the duration of her next mission. She vehemently refuses, unwilling to let the vastness of space touch you more than it already has.

“Don’t worry Jimmy; you’re too big for this planet anyway.”

She throws your belongings into a suitcase and whisks you away to a place she hopes will mellow the wild temperament boiling in your veins. Her hair falls in golden rings around her lined face as she forces a smile when the shuttle shakes with reentry. Your eyes never leave the window as land gets closer. Fields of grain greet you, waving like the family waiting for you at the dock.

“I can’t thank you enough Thomas.” Winona’s relief falls from her tongue like a waterfall and you breathe it in until you drown.

The Riley’s are old family friends and they welcome you as if your blood was theirs. Their son Kevin falls beside you and makes himself your shadow as you play in the rich fields teaming with life. You’ll never forget the way he laughed as you chased him and the others around the house when the sky was smokeless and clean. Your mother’s smiles became less forced and when she laughed you felt pride swell inside your chest because you were the one to put that joy back in her life.

Looking back, you should’ve known it wouldn’t last.

Death touched you the day you were born and it would follow you no matter how far you traveled.

It started the day she left.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can Jimmy, you won’t even know that I’m gone.”

Winona was ripped from vacation when a series of bombs went off at an outpost in Africa. The mountain of data and knowledge lost in the attack left Starfleet reeling and desperate to call back their best engineers to reclaim what was taken. You tried to be understanding, but you refused her embrace and didn’t watch her shuttle take off. Perhaps if you had known what was going to happen next you would’ve held her until she caved.

Twelve days later you notice the panic in people’s eyes.

It’s in their voices, their body language, and the way stomachs begin to protest. You and Kevin note that less and less children show up to play in the park and soon Joan Riley stops letting you leave the house.

When you hear Governor Kodos’ announcement three mornings later fear grips you and something savage takes hold. People start disappearing and one night you hear a banging on the front door. Joan is crying and you peek past the bedroom door to see her and Thomas struggling against men with guns. Kevin rushes past you to help and when Thomas sees you he tells you to run.

Grabbing Kevin by his right arm you don’t stop for hours until they’ve stopped chasing you and Kevin’s legs finally give up. He yells at you, swings at you, and cries until he eventually passes out from hunger or exhaustion – maybe both.

After that time loses all meaning and you turn yourself into something you don’t recognize. You steal whatever you can get your hands on to feed Kevin and the two other children you find cowering under beds in abandoned houses. Soon there are seven of you and it’s riskier than ever to exist in the decaying colony. You’re almost caught for the third time before the youngest, Allison, succumbs to sickness and dies in your arms. She was seven.

You kill a mutt and it’s barely cooked before you and the others dig in. When it comes up hours later it burns worse than anything you’ve felt before and death seems closer than ever. Kevin’s feverish and so you risk everything to get medicine.

A soldier manages to grab you, but Alex, a boy just shy of twelve, sneaks up and smashes a pipe into the back of his head allowing you to escape with a dislocated shoulder and enough rations for the night. He cries into his porridge and Kevin recites old fables his grandmother taught him before she passed.

You don’t know it, but two weeks after Kodos claimed power the shuttles of food arrive ahead of schedule along with a Starship.

Just like that it’s over.  

An ensign finds you and the others huddled in an abandoned car just outside of the compound. You refuse to leave the bodies of the two who didn’t wake up so you and Alex carry them to the shuttle where she’s waiting for you.

Winona falls to her knees and is noiseless in her grief while tears pour without permission down her pale cheeks. Someone relieves you of the burden in your arms – Peter was three and never cried once while on the run – and you let yourself reach out and pat your mother’s bowed head until she eventually gathers herself and ushers you into the shuttle.

Two weeks pass before you finally speak.

“I’m hungry.”

 - - - - - - - - - -

You’re sixteen and filled with resentment.

Three years since Tarsus IV and the nightmares have become a part of you. Your teachers pass over you in class and the students still gawk at the son of George Kirk when you stroll in late with a busted lip. Whispers follow you around Riverside and they roll over your shoulders as you fight your way through life with a smirk.

Most nights you come home with a police escort and she says nothing. Winona has not left the planet since she brought you home years ago and it pisses you off. You’ve no sympathy for quitters and you’ve told her this many fights over coffee and whiskey. She lets your anger wash over her and refuses to rise to the bait until you’re eighteen.

“You want me gone so badly Jimmy, fine. You got your wish. Try not to burn the house down while I’m gone.”

Back to the stars she flies and she doesn’t know you’re in the crowd of Starfleet families who came to wish their loved ones well. You wait for the feeling of victory to hit you, but instead an ache washes over you in the empty home you never really felt safe in. You chased her off and she finally left.

There is no winner here.

You don’t expect to hear from her again, but she calls you a week later after she’s been given the position of Chief Engineer on the USS Constellation. Her voice is calm, but you can hear the undercurrent of excitement in the way she talks about her ship and it chips away at the indignation sleeping in your gut.

At five, you loved her.

At fifteen, you hated her.

It doesn’t take you another ten years to feel your conflicting emotions evolve, but when you’re twenty-two bleeding on a bar table with an offer thrust upon you in the guise of a dare, you begin to understand her.

It’ll be some time before you’re able to understand him – the ghost with a noose around your neck, but it starts before you have the chance to realize what’s happening.

It starts in a bar and a man who sees you, not George Kirk.

It starts with a dare.

\- - - - - - - - - -

You weren’t looking for trouble, per-say, but she walked in all legs and killer smile and you knew trouble had found you.

Laying on the charm that had made many local ladies grin behind their glasses, you slid next to her and flirted like it kept you upright. Her dismissive laugh made your night, you always loved a challenge. She saw right through you and you felt refreshed in spite of the liquor rushing around your system.

“For a moment there I thought you were just a dumb hick who only had sex with farm animals.” Uhura teased.

“Well,” you smirked, “not only.”

She was so far out of your league, but it felt good making her laugh. Not one to quit when faced with a trial you leaned in to say something cute, but are interrupted. You’ve been in plenty of bar fights before, but there was something different about this one.

You got your ass handed to you by some uptight cadet.

It stung: Almost as much as being rescued by some uptight Captain.

Christopher Pike wasn’t like any of the men you’d come across in your life and it instantly put you on edge. This was a man used to people following his orders – you were not going to let him intimidate you. Bruce, the bartender with a soft spot for broken things, helps you up and shoves a handful of napkins in your hands for your bloody nose.

“Christ kid, you’re gonna scare away all my business looking that rough.”

You flip him off and crash into a chair next to the table Cupcake laid you out on. A couple minutes pass and a cold drink is placed in front of you and Pike not far behind it.

“You know, I couldn't believe it when the bartender told me who you are.”

You already know where this is going, but you humor him.

“Who am I, Captain Pike?”

Even though you’re expecting it, his reply still stings.

“Your father’s son.”

You want to tell him you don’t have a father, but you see your mother’s face in the back of your mind and you swear internally before asking Bruce for another drink. You just want to nurse your wounded pride, but Pike is persistent.

“For my dissertation, I was assigned the U.S.S. Kelvin. Something I admired about your Dad: He didn't believe in no-win scenarios.”

Your laugh catches in your throat and it stings worse than the antiseptic you’ll apply later.

“Sure learned his lesson!”

The wind left in your sails vanishes beneath Pike’s stare.

“Well, it depends on how you define winning. You're here, aren't you?”

You want to sneer and fight against the guilt building in the back of your mind. You never asked to be born, but that makes you sound stupid and immature. So you swallow your first reply and thank Bruce for the beer he brings over.

“You know that instinct to leap without looking, that was his nature too. And in my opinion it's something Starfleet's lost.” Pike continues and this time your laughter makes it out unscathed. This cannot be happening.

“Why are you talkin’ to me man?”

He ignores your incredulity and cuts to the chase, “Cause I looked up your file while you were drooling on the floor. Your aptitude tests are off the charts, so what is it? You like being the only genius level repeat offender in the Midwest?”

You don’t hesitate, “Maybe I love it.”

You wet your lips, tasting the familiar tang of blood and contemplate walking away, but for some reason you want to see this conversation to the end. Something on your face must encourage him, because Pike’s not done yet.

“Look, so your Dad dies. You can settle for a less than ordinary life, or do you feel like you were meant for something better? Something special? Enlist in Starfleet.”

Your ribs hurt too much to fully support the guffaw that rushes forth, but your amusement is clear.

“Enlist? You guys must be way down on your recruiting quota for the month!”

With that, you’ve had enough. It’s been a hell of a night and you’ve been beaten and propositioned in the span of thirty minutes and you just want to sleep.

You shuffle in your seat, but it’s not over yet.

“If you're half the man your father was, Jim, Starfleet could use you. You could be an officer in four years. You could have your own ship in eight. You understand what the Federation is, don't you? It's important. It's a peacekeeping and humanitarian armada...”

You cut him off before he can go through the whole spiel– you’ve heard it before.

“Are we done?”

Pike doesn’t sigh in disappointment, but the aurora around him speaks of his exasperation with you.

“I'm done.”

Before you can form a half-hearted thanks, Pike pushes forward.

“Riverside Shipyard. Shuttle for new recruits leaves tomorrow morning, 0800.”

‘ _This guy is unbelievable_ ,’ you think.

He moves to leave and then reconsiders, leaving you with words that’ll haunt you until death robs you of your ability to remember anything except the pain coursing through your body.

“Now, your father was captain of a Starship for 12 minutes. He saved 800 lives, including your mother's and yours. I dare you to do better.”

You watch him walk out the door and you’re not sure how long you sit there willing yourself not to follow him. Eventually you remember how to use your legs and you leave with Bruce’s concern aimed at your back. The freedom your bike provides you feels less than it normally does. You don’t really know where you’re going until you stop on the hill and see her glory.

Without realizing it you are helpless in resisting her pull. You can see her insides and think about what makes you tick – your own bones that’ve broken and healed over the years. You’ve seen Starships before, but she’s different.

She’s yours.

Pike said you could be an officer in four years, but that’s not good enough. He has no idea what he’s started with that dare. Starfleet knew George Kirk, but they don’t know you. It happens faster than you can track it – your mind racing from denial to acceptance until you’re vibrating with excitement.

It feels like falling, tastes like dust and blood and for a moment you’re approaching that cliff but this time you don’t jump out.

This time, you follow it down and everything changes.

Morning comes and you’re armed with the clothes on your back and you direct a challenge of your own to Pike who doesn’t looked surprised in the slightest to see you.

“Four years, I’ll do it in three.”

Filled with a desire to prove everyone wrong and a headache from a metal beam, you flash a grin Uhura’s way and find yourself companionship in an astrophobic doctor who later vomits on your shoes. You can’t find it in yourself to care as the shuttle leaves Iowa and your tragic backstory behind. Soaring high above the clouds you brace yourself for what you assume will be the hardest three years of your life. Anticipation floods your body as the shuttle descends and touches solid ground in San Francisco.

“You sure look chipper for a guy I drenched in vomit,” McCoy groused apologetically once you were out in the open air.

“It’s a fresh start Bones,” you beam, throwing an arm around a man you hardly knew. “It’s gonna be great!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It should go without saying that I'm going to do all the movies this way. I'll probably also dedicate a chapter to fill between Into Darkness and Beyond - fixing issues I had with Into Darkness to the best of my ability. I'll also probably write a chapter for post-Beyond because I loved that movie so much and I wanna play with Jaylah a little. 
> 
> Endgame is Spock/Kirk, with a possibility of Scotty/Uhura and maybe others should the mood strike me. I'm really excited to be writing again and there are other ideas I've tabled for reasons that I might work on as I continue to write this. 
> 
> I think my biggest fear is messing this Jim up - he means so much to me and I just want to do justice by him and you, the readers. I hope you'll stick with me as I venture into this project and rediscover why I loved writing so much.


	2. Living Beyond Your Years

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So my muse abandoned me once more - hence the long gap between posting the first chapter and this one. Forgive me? 
> 
> I had such a hard time deliberating between how much dialogue in the movie to include and which scenes to skim and which ones to go more in-depth with and the end result is this and I'm okay with that.

It doesn’t take long for you to realize that you were always going to end up here.

Classes are a breeze and your professors hate and love you in equal measure. While strolling along the crowed sidewalks something clicks into place and that void in your chest where your father’s face rested aches less as the days turn to weeks.

Leonard McCoy learns real quick about the cracks in your foundation and for better or worse decides you’re not a total lost cause so he sticks close. He patches you up after a long night of drinking when you wake up in a bed you don’t recognize. The first time you hit on him is the first time you hear him laugh.

“Not for nothing darlin’ but I’ve learned my lesson. Last time I fucked a friend we got married and we know how that turned out.”

You smile into your whisky as McCoy blends into the cold walls of your shared room. Night eventually gives way to day and your tongue feels heavy in your mouth which tastes like week-old sick. McCoy must have tucked you in before passing out on his bed because the cocoon of warmth draped across your chest brings out a smile you didn’t know existed.

A couple cups of coffee later you pull McCoy into a half-hug in line for seconds and he doesn’t resist… much.

“I owe you one Bones.”

“For what exactly? For hitting you with my special ‘no hangover’ hypo or leaving whatever’s left of your dignity intact?”

Your laugh turns the heads of several in the cafeteria.

“Yeah for something like that,” you reply with more gratitude than you initially realize because his eyes soften and McCoy’s smile makes your chest warm.

“Don’t mention it kid,” he begins before scowling at the attention your conversation has garnered, “Seriously don’t mention it or I’ll stick you with something so nasty your own Ma won’t be able to identify your remains.”

“Love you too Bones.”

You hand smarts from clapping his shoulder – hard and without remorse when he shoots you a glare. It’s the cementation of a friendship that’ll hold you together in the vastness of space, but it’ll be years before you realize just how crucial that night was for you both.

\- - - - - - - - - -

You don’t expect to see Pike as often as you do, but you begin to look forward to running into him on your way to class.

You talk about everything and nothing and make sure to assure him you mean business when it comes to your three-year plan. He humors you of course, but there’s something in his eyes that tells you he’s for real: That his faith in you is genuine so you try your best to prove him right. Sure you get into a scrape here and there, but for the most part you leave the bitter farm-boy persona behind and cultivate a play-boy genius attitude that drives your peers insane from a healthy mix of jealousy and desire.

The months fly by and with top marks catapulting you to your goal you spend less time indulging fellow cadets with your mental prowess and more time readying yourself for Command. Granted, you still find the time to turn a few heads now and then, but your reputation was more of an urban legend than actual fact. You don’t deny the rumors – you’ve been used to them your whole life and soon it seems like there wasn’t a cadet alive who hadn’t taken you for a spin.

“Like I care what people say about me Bones – it’s not hurting anyone.”

“Like hell it isn’t Jim! Your reputation here could be the difference between getting assigned to a Starship or an outpost lightyears away from civilization.”

“Worried about little ole me are you?” You batt your lashes and McCoy snarls at you before taking off to the MedLab.

“Aww, come on Bones. You’re the only one who cares!”

Unconcerned with the tide of social gossip you play your part and flirt with anyone who’ll indulge you – taking a special joy in hounding Cadet Uhura in your spare time.

 

You tease her, she rebuffs. She insults you, you play dumb. It’s a game you’ve played many times before, but unlike the rounds in the past you don’t get bored with this one so easily. Her dynamic mind and sharp wit draws you in despite her attempts to shove you into another dimension.

“You’re an infant masquerading as a man Kirk,” she hisses over her PADD when you bump into her at the library late one night.

You smirk when you catch a glimpse at the advanced Vulcan script leaping off the screen.

“Perhaps, but I definitely have a man’s body Cadet – if you require I could provide sufficient proof to amend your opinion.”

She rolls her eyes and brushes past you, eyes locked onto the bright screen once more. Any other day you might have chased after her, but tomorrow you take the Kobayashi Maru for the first and last time.

You’re going to make that test your bitch.

\- - - - - - - - - -

“You feel like an ass yet or has it not sunk in?”

McCoy cackles at the glare you shoot him.

Your neck burns underneath the weight of the stares tossed your way as you march from the building with the stench of failure surrounding you like a dark cloud. After all the bravado you’d spent months cultivating – after all the cocky dismissals when taking to McCoy and Uhura and anyone who’d listen - that test handed you your ass and the shreds of your worthless pride in under fifteen minutes.

“Aw come off it Jim, better people than you have tried and failed that damned test. I’d say it’s unpassable if I cared one bit.”

“It’s not over Bones, not even close.”

If your professors thought you were dedicated before, they were astounded by your ambition as you studied and fought your way back to the Maru for a second try.

It didn’t go much better than the first, but your failure brought you in contact with Gaila who, while both fun in bed and out, would be the key to your success. You pour over mountains of code barely taking any breathers even though McCoy hounds you day and night to “get some damn sleep you inhuman bastard.”

It’s not something you whip together in a night. The eve of your third year comes quietly and you can feel the weight of your deadline hanging around your neck until it’s hard to breathe. You shake off McCoy’s concerned stares and hide away in your PADD and in Gaila’s room far from her mysterious roommate.

The night before your third attempt at the Maru she says she loves you in between wild kisses and your heart stutters and your mind goes blank.

“That’s weird.”

Universe: 1, You: -2

Before you can get into it, explain your broken sense of interpersonal relationships due to stunted emotional growth the door beeps and you’re shoved beneath Gaila’s bed in time to see Cadet Uhura breeze through.

You try to follow her words but she stops suddenly and you know it’s over.

“Gaila who is he?”

“Who’s who?” she titters nervously and you mentally face-palm.

“The mouth-breather hiding under your bed?”

Found out, you figure there’s no point in hiding, but you can’t help the slightly impressed, slightly disbelieving tone in your voice as you reveal yourself.

“You can hear me breathing?”

“You!” she exclaims and you think the venom in her voice is uncalled for.

“Big day tomorrow.”

You gather what clothes you can as you make for the door.

“You’re gonna fail,” hisses Uhura as you bid Gaila goodbye.

“If I pass will you tell me your first name,” you ask because you can’t leave well enough alone can you? Of course not and you know Uhura’s answer before she does.

“No! Goodnight.”

You can tell she regrets being polite as you fight to have the last word.

“I think the fact that you picked up a transmission is very interesting...” the door closes, cutting you off, but you can’t bite back your smile as you saunter back to your room. You’ve got a trick up your sleeve and it’s gonna blow everyone in that room away.

McCoy threatens to sedate you when morning comes and you’re full of intoxicating energy. He follows you to the testing room and you wave him off, “Go ahead, I’ll be right in.”

It’s a testament to how done he is with you that he doesn’t even hesitate to ditch you in the hallway. Once you’re alone you pull out your PADD and send a message to Gaila.

You take a second to hope she won’t get in trouble… you gave a lot of thought to how you’d accomplish this and you’ll swear up and down to anyone who matters that she had no idea what you were planning. Tired of fighting an unwinnable test – your subroutine will even the playing field and maybe even earn you praise for original thinking.

You stroll into the simulator and plop down into the captain’s chair and wait for it to unfold.

\- - - - - - - - - -

“What the hell did you do?”

McCoy’s grip on your arm is tight, but it can’t dampen your spirits. Cadets around you whisper as you pass, awe in their eyes and jealousy in their voices. You’d officially beaten an unbeatable test and nothing could bring you down.

You don’t give it a second thought when the assembly is called until you’re singled out.

“This session has been called to resolve a troubling matter. James T. Kirk, step forward.”

A stone settles in your stomach as you step down to the stand.

“Cadet Kirk, evidence has been submitted to this council, suggesting that you violated the ethical code of conduct pursuing to regulation 17.43 of the Starfleet code. Is there anything you care to say before we begin, sir?”

You feel the blood drain from your face, but you refuse to let them see you squirm. Brain firing on all cylinders, you pull yourself together long enough to act accordingly.

“Yes. I believe I have the right to face my accuser directly?”

Movement behind you causes you to turn in time to see a Vulcan stand.

“Step forward please.”

As the Vulcan takes the stand to your left you wonder briefly why you’ve never seen him before. Surely you’d notice him around campus before now.

“This is Commander Spock. He is one of our most distinguished graduates. He's programmed the Kobayashi Maru exam for the last 4 years. Commander.”

You ready yourself for a fight when Spock opens his mouth.

“Cadet Kirk, you somehow managed to install and activate a subroutine in the programming code, thereby changing the conditions of the test.”

You know a little about Vulcans from your studies and you’re almost certain Spock is irritated with you though you’re also sure Vulcans do not experience such frivolous emotions. It makes you want to ruffle his feathers.

“Your point being?”

“In academic vernacular, you cheated.”

‘ _Well, two can play this game_ ,’ you think bitterly as you take in Spock’s almost smug reasoning.

“Let me ask you something, I think we all know the answer to. The test itself is a cheat, isn't it? I mean, you programmed it to be unwinnable.”

You can hear the whispers race up and down the rows behind you.

“Your argument precludes the possibility of a no-win scenario,” Spock responds and you’re halfway done replying before he finishes.

“I don’t believe in no-win scenarios.”

Your entire childhood was meant to be one and look where you are now. You have something to prove and you’re not going to let some uptight Commander get in your way.

“Then not only did you violate the rules, you also failed to understand the principal lesson.” Spock is determined to give as good he gets, so you fall back onto your bravado.

“Please enlighten me.”

You don’t expect what happens next and suddenly the whispers stop.

“You of all people should know, Cadet Kirk, a captain cannot cheat death.”

You could hear a pin drop on carpet after Spock’s words. You feel dizzy, blood rushing back and forth from your heart to your head until the ringing in your ears threatens to overtake you.

“I of all people…” you mutter to yourself but everyone can hear the makings of an all-out war.

“Your father, Lieutenant George Kirk, assumed command of his vessel before being killed in action, did he not?”

How dare he – you begin to vibrate with anger and red clouds your vision as you lash out without decorum or tact.

“I don't think you like the fact that I beat your test.”

Spock does not rise to the bait and remains cool and collected.

“Furthermore, you have failed to divine the purpose of the test.”

You want to shout, “Enlighten me again.”

“The purpose is to experience fear, fear in the face of certain death, to accept that fear, and maintain control of oneself and one's crew. This is the quality expected in every Starfleet captain.”

Your fingers ache as your fists tighten at your side and suddenly without warning the room jumps into action as the words ‘distress call’ and ‘Vulcan’ perforate the cloud of anger swirling around your mind. McCoy’s at your side – pulling you towards the crowd of cadets rushing to their designated stations.

Spock is shoved from your mind until you’re grounded until further action can be taken and it kills something inside of you. You feel yourself wilting as you try and fake it for McCoy who takes pity on you – once more – and loads you up with a virus until your eyes are watery and your muscles begin to revolt.

You try not to hate him as you fight the urge to vomit. That urge is lost when you see her – The Enterprise – in all her shining glory. The edges of your vision begin to dim until McCoy sticks you with something and everything goes dark.

\- - - - - - - - - -

Everything is nonstop when you come to.

Tongue thick in your mouth you rush against time through a ship you know as intimately as you known your own flesh. The nightmare comes in waves in the back of your mind as ‘lightning storm in space’ threatens to drive you mad.

Uhura confirms your suspicions with confusion alive in her strained face and you’re off again. The bridge is beautiful and you vow to take more time to admire it when you’re sure the world isn’t ending again. Spock is furious and so is Pike – but he’s willing to hear you out once you’re able to talk without choking.

“This cadet is trying to save the bridge.”

“That same anomaly, a lightning storm in space that we saw today, also occurred on the day of my birth. Before a Romulan ship attacked the USS Kelvin.”

“We’re warping into a trap, sir.”

 _‘Please believe me_ ,’ you beg silently as Pike takes in your words and digests them with more care than you probably deserve in that moment.

“Shields up, red alert.”

Bracing yourself for a debris ridden graveyard your eyes lock with Spock’s for a second of breathless despair and it all goes to hell when you see the destruction. The Enterprise screeches in protest as the crew tries to navigate through the field of rubble.

When Nero makes himself known something in you snaps as you finally see the face of the man who murdered your father. You feel like everything is locked on fast forward when you find yourself promoted to First Officer and gearing up for a controlled drop onto a drill. Your mind is racing a mile a millisecond with every moment that passes during freefall.

You fight with your whole body – taking each punch without hesitation while keeping an eye on Sulu. When it’s cleared of all enemies the drill shudders and something plunges from its depths.

“Kirk to Enterprise. They just launched something at the planet through the hole they just drilled.”

A feeling of dread fills your body as you listen to the speculation on the bridge. Your heart stops with Spock’s.

“They're creating a black hole at the center of Vulcan?”

You don’t have time to wonder what’s going to happen next when the drill begins to rise and you see Sulu tip over the edge. You throw yourself after him without a second thought.

You’re plummeting to Vulcan’s rocky surface and you don’t think about what you haven’t accomplished yet. You don’t think about the report your mother will read. You think about your father and whether or not the fear you’re feeling was even a fraction of what he felt before your body begins to vibrate and suddenly you’re safe on the ship.

You watch Spock take to the pad and your words fall on deaf ears as he vanishes in a bright beam of light. It feels like hours pass before he’s brought back with an arm outstretched and Chekov’s broken, “I’ve lost her” ringing in your ears.

A few hours ago Spock was confident and brilliant in his appeal and now you recognize the jagged edges of someone who has lost a piece of themselves. You’re shaken by the sudden desire to reach out – to touch Spock in comfort, but it’s gone before you exhale and the ship pushes forward.

You’re patched up in Sickbay and back on the bridge trying to make your case for revenge while Spock stonewalls you at every turn. You want to catch up to Nero’s ship, Spock disagrees and you’re reminded of the session on Earth. The crew tosses ideas back and forth while trying to figure out Nero’s origins.

“An alternate reality.”

You’d laugh if you didn’t believe it too.

“Whatever our lives might have been, if the time continuum was disrupted... our destinies have changed.”

Something in your shifts uncomfortably at Spock’s reasoning so you dismiss it, push it away for now, and focus on getting Spock to agree with you. He doesn’t.

“Every second we waste, Nero's getting closer to his next target. I will not allow us to go backwards and cower from the problem instead of hunting Nero down.”

Security is not gentle, even less so when you being to resist. You never expected Spock to intervene so when he comes up behind you you’re unable to fight the sudden rush of darkness.

\- - - - - - - - - -

‘ _I’m getting real tired of this_ ,’ you muse bitterly when you awake on an alien planet.

It’s cold and you’re not nearly properly equipped to be left on such a barren wasteland of a planet no matter what your pod’s computer says. Snow blows in your face as you take into account what has happened.

“Star date 2258.42. For... for... Whatever. Acting Captain Spock has marooned me on Delta Vega in what I believe to be a violation of security protocol 49: Governing the treatment of prisoners aboard a starship.”

The wind howls and it covers up the sound of another type of howling – the kind that leads to running and screaming. You don’t bother trying to get a good look at the creature chasing you, but you’ll be sure to let Starfleet know in detail the little regard Spock has for your life if you survive.

By the grace of a God you don’t pray to, you find shelter in a cave and the flames distract you for a second until everything catches up.

“James T. Kirk,” the figure addresses you.

“Excuse me?”

“How did you find me?”

You feel like you’re having two different conversations at once as you pull yourself up to properly address the stranger who drove off a mad snow beast.

“How do you know my name?”

“I have been and always shall be your friend,” the figure assures and it takes a second for you to realize your savior is a Vulcan which raises fifty different questions, but you stick to what you know instead.

“Look I don’t know you.”

The Vulcan looks sad for a second before replying, “I am Spock.”

It’s a testament to the type of day you’ve had that your reply is short and succinct.

“Bullshit.”

You know he can’t be Spock because the Vulcan’s lips twitch upwards in amusement and you’re pretty sure the world is ending – but you follow him further into the cave to hear him out. Your day’s been crazy enough, how much worse can it get?

“It is remarkably pleasing to see you again old friend. Especially after the events of today.”

He speaks with such certainty you almost hate to burst his bubble.

“Sir, I- I appreciate what you did for me today but if- if you were Spock, you'd know we're not friends at all. You hate me: You marooned me here for mutiny.”

The look of confusion and disbelief on Spock’s face would be funny under any other circumstances.

“You are not the Captain?” he asks gently and you laugh cynically. Taking the time to explain why Spock was made Captain and not you leads you to the truth of Nero.

“What do you know about him?”

Spock considers his words, “He is a particularly troubled Romulan,” before walking towards you with his hand outstretched.

“Please allow me, it will be easier.”

Protests pushed aside by the urgency of the moment you’re thrust into another world; another universe and Spock is everywhere and nowhere at the same time. You watch the destruction of Romulus and the severe power of the red matter once more. The pieces line up to create a frightening picture in which an alternate universe was created in a misguided attempt to aid a doomed race.

The death of your father and countless others was caused by an error made in a future that no longer exists. It hurts: Your pain and his overlapping and combining until you feel like your eyes are going to bleed from the intensity of it. You’re seconds from falling apart when you feel the sharp knife of grief at the death of millions until you nearly black out.

Suddenly it’s over.

“Forgive me. Emotional transference is an effect of the mind meld.”

The sentence itself is inadequate, but Spock’s sorrow is real. He watches you with guilt heavy in his eyes as you struggle to make sense of everything you did and didn’t see. There are flashes of memories that don’t belong to you mixed in with what Spock wanted you to see. A man with hazel eyes like your father standing proud and golden on a ship that feels like home.

“So you do feel.”

It’s all you can say in the face of what you’ve been shown.

“Jim. We must go. There is a Starfleet outpost, not far from here.” Spock urges, but you’re not done yet.

“Did I know my father?”

His answer does not ease your whirlwind heart, but you follow him knowing that somewhere far from where you are there was a Jim Kirk who was born lucky.

That’s good enough for now.

\- - - - - - - - - -

Montgomery Scott is an island onto himself.

You’re impressed with his knowhow as well as his past. In a pattern you’re becoming familiar with time seems to speed up and it stops in time for you to say goodbye to Spock who is determined to get you back to your ship.

It doesn’t sit right with you – forcing the other Spock to face his emotions that must be eating him alive. There are many ways you imagined becoming Captain; emotionally compromising an officer in command was not one of them.

“Coming back in time, changing history, that's cheating.”

For a second you can see them: The other you and Spock sharing a moment much like this one filled with a hard-won camaraderie. Perhaps Spock can see it too because his eyes are soft when he says goodbye.

“A trick I learned from an old friend. Live long and prosper.”

It takes a couple seconds for you to realize that Mr. Scott’s formula worked and that you’re not mindless atoms scattered across space and time. After a frantic rescue and a rough round of hide-and-seek with the security team you’re back on the bridge and you can see the similarity between the two Spocks’ in their human eyes.

“We're travelling at warp speed. How did you manage to beam aboard this ship?”

Straight to the chase, you’re ready for whatever Spock can dish out this time. Sending a silent apology to both Spocks you summon all the cocky swagger you can and hit.

“Well I'm not telling, acting captain. What now? That doesn't frustrate you, does it? My lack of cooperation, that- that doesn't make you angry?”

There’s a spark in Spock’s eyes that fuels your words. You tell yourself over and over again that this is how it has to happen, but that doesn’t make it easier.

“What is it with you, Spock? Your planet was just destroyed, your mother murdered, and you're not even upset.”

It’s building now – the inevitable conclusion that’s going to put you in charge and possibly in Sickbay at the same time. Spock’s vibrating with anger and you’re not done pouring gasoline on the fire.

“What is it like not to feel anger or heartbreak? Or the need, to stop at nothing, to avenge the death of the woman who gave birth to you! You feel nothing! It must not even compute for you. You never loved her!”

Suddenly Spock lunges and you can’t breathe his hand is an iron clamp across your throat with the console digging into your back. You can’t fight back; you won’t fight back. Using your remaining strength you try and push your regret towards him. Surely he’ll feel it with his skin a brand on yours.

‘ _I’m sorry Spock – this is the only way. I saw it, I saw us. Please there’s so much. I’m sorry_.’

Flashes of a life not lived explode across your eyes with the swirls of darkness threatening to overtake you when Spock lets go as if you burned him.

He relinquishes command and rushes from the bridge before you can right yourself.

The crew watches you in disbelief as you settle into the chair and this was never how you wanted to accomplish this.

“I sure hope you know what you’re doing Captain,” Uhura jeers and you don’t need help feeling bad, but she makes sure you do anyway.

“I do too,” you confess before steeling yourself for your first – and probably last – ship wide address.

“Attention, crew of the Enterprise, this is James Kirk. Mr. Spock has resigned commission and advanced me to acting captain. I know you're all expecting to regroup with the fleet, but I'm ordering a pursuit course of the enemy ship to Earth. I want all departments at battle stations and ready in 10 minutes. Either we're going down or they are. Kirk out.”

It feels right and so you swallow your guilt and call the heads together because you can’t possibly do this alone.

\- - - - - - - - - -

A headache pulses in the back of your skull as everyone fights to have their voices heard. Most plans are dismissed and you feel the sinking sensation of despair creep over you as the stars flash by.

As if sensing your mindset, Chekov speaks up.

“If Mr. Scott can get us to warp factor 4 and if we drop out of warp behind one of Saturn's moons, say Titan, the magnetic distortion from the planet's rings will make us invisible to Nero's sensors. From there, as long as the drill is not activated we can beam aboard the enemy ship.”

“Aye, that might work.” Scotty agrees with a look akin to admiration.

He’s not the only one either and when Spock returns and endorses the plan Chekov looks as if he’ll faint.

“If Mr. Sulu is able to maneuver us into position I can beam aboard Nero's ship, steal back the black hole device and if possible, bring back Captain Pike.”

It’s impossible to tell that minutes ago Spock had you by the throat; he is the picture of calm confidence and it helps you decide to join him on Nero’s ship.

“I'm coming with you.”

Spock doesn’t try and stop you. “I would cite regulation, but I know you will simply ignore it.”

If you didn’t feel like death your smile would’ve been more relaxed, “See? We are getting to know each other.”

A quick shoulder clap and some aggravated words from McCoy later you’re armed and ready to be beamed to Nero’s ship.

It’s not the last time you’ll give Sulu control of the Enterprise, but you don’t know that yet so it feels more final than anything when you pass the reins.

“Whatever happens Mr. Sulu, if you think you have the tactical advantage you fire on that ship even if we're still on board. That's an order.”

You’re so wrapped up in the moment you almost miss the tender exchange between Uhura and Spock. It leaves you reeling a little bit; both the knowledge of their relationship and the answer to a question you’d spent years asking.

“So her first name’s Nyota?”

“I have no comment on the matter.”

Spock’s sharp reply reminds you to focus and so you nod and table the discussion for a later date.

After the bright light fades you find yourself in the middle of a fire fight and you cover Spock as he melds with an unconscious Romulan in order to find the location of Captain Pike and the red matter.

You find the ship and Spock’s full of questions you cannot answer. He knows you know more than you’re letting on, but the face of older Spock comes to mind so you dismiss your Spock’s glare and stick to the plan.

“In the event that I do not return please tell Lt. Uhura...”

 _‘Oh no you don’t_ ,’ you think desperately as you wave away his concern.

“Spock, it’ll work.”

You flash a smile and dart out of the ship before Spock can reply and you tread carefully until Nero jumps you. You cannot afford the loss of time this fight will force upon you so you tune out his words to the best of your ability.

“I know your face from Earth's history. James T. Kirk was considered to be a great man. He went on to Captain the USS Enterprise. But that was another life. A life I will deprive you of just like I did your father.”

A red haze settles over you once more and you’re so tired of being angry and having your father’s death shoved in your face. Adrenaline fills your core and you’re facing a different Romulan who goes down with a gut shot after underestimating you.

It takes you mere seconds to find Captain Pike and you’ve never been happier to see anyone before.

“What are you doing here?” he coughs.

“Following orders,” you confess before you’re beamed back onto the Enterprise with Scotty hollering in joy behind the glass. You relinquish Captain Pike to McCoy and rush to the bridge with Spock hot on your heels.

While hailing Nero’s ship, you slip into the command you were born for and the crew is left breathless in your wake.

“This is Captain James T. Kirk of the USS Enterprise. Your ship is compromised. You're too close to the singularity to survive without assistance, which we are willing to provide.”

Spock startles at your words and you turn with him.

“Captain, what are you doing?”

You thought it was obvious, but you’re willing to extrapolate.

“Showing them compassion may be the only way to earn peace with Romulus. It's logic Spock, thought you'd like that.”

The amusement in Spock’s eyes is so bright it makes you want to laugh in relief.

“No, not really. Not this time.”

You resist the urge to clap his shoulder and turn in time to hear Nero’s garbled reply.

“I would rather suffer the end of Romulus a thousand times. I would rather die in agony than accept assistance from you.”

You shrug and slide back into the Captain’s chair.

“You got it! Arm phasers. Fire everything we've got!”

It’s more spectacular than any fireworks you’ve ever seen, but the rush of victory vanishes quickly when you feel the pull of the black hole. The Enterprise strains beneath your feet as you order Scotty to eject the core. The blast propels you a safe distance away while almost knocking you from your seat.

Cheers ring throughout the ship and you turn in time to lock eyes with Spock who nods slightly and it’s enough to make you feel a thousand feet tall. You make your second ship-wide address when Nyota tells you the fleet is coming to you and you close your eyes for a second and just breathe.

\- - - - - - - - - -

If you’d been looking forward for some time off you’re sorely disappointed when you make it planetside.

There are hearings and meetings and wounds to heal. Commendations and promotions and applications to review. McCoy sticks close and Spock vanishes and you can’t go anywhere without dodging the press who want a piece of you.

You’re coming from your fifth meeting on a Thursday when you’re swept into the shaky embrace of your mother who fought tooth and nail to get back home. You cling to her in the middle of the hallway and everyone gives you a wide berth when McCoy and Sulu show up and act as your bodyguards.

She’s a thousand tears and her worlds blend together, but you don’t miss the pride pouring from her lips as she calls you Jimmy and cups your tender face. You want to apologize but she shushes your attempts and knocks your foreheads together before kidnapping you for lunch and dinner and breakfast the next day.

You tell her everything.

She knows the truth before most of the public does and she knows more than what the public is told. Starfleet decided ‘alternate timeline’s’ might be a bit much for the average civilian to digest so Romulan affairs are soothed behind the scenes and the events of the Narada are classified “Need To Know” by the higher-ups.

You mother stays long enough to see you rise to Captain.

The room is packed and many cadets and some civilians are left standing in the rows.

“This assembly calls Captain James Tiberius Kirk. Your inspirational valor and supreme dedication to your comrades is in keeping with the highest traditions of service. And reflect utmost credit to yourself, your crew and the Federation. It is my honor to award you with this commendation. By Starfleet order 28455, you are hereby directed to report to Admiral Pike USS Enterprise, for duty as his relief.”

You feel as if you might burst as you address Pike.

“I relieve you sir.”

“I am relieved. Congratulations, Captain. Your father would be proud of you.”

He doesn’t say he’s proud of you – not here in front of hundreds, but you hear it nonetheless. The crowd erupts in cheers and your eyes flit from McCoy to your mother; from Nyota to Scotty. You hide your disappointment when you don’t see Spock – but you’re still certain he’ll show. There’s no way you can do this without him and it doesn’t feel like failure to admit it.

Three days later you enter the bridge: Your Command gold drawing the eyes of all who are already in position. You were glad to see that those who’d served with you during the Narada Incident reapplied with gusto. Sulu and Chekov do little to hide their grins as you address McCoy who could not in good  conscience let you go out into space without him.

“Your fool ass will get yourself killed if I’m not there,” he’d said the night before and you heard the love in his words.

Scotty checks in and you’re seconds away from asking Sulu to take you out when the lift slides open.

‘ _Bones owes me 100 credits_ ,’ you think smugly when you see Spock.

“Permission to come aboard, Captain.”

You don’t bother hiding your pleasure at his request, “Permission granted.”

“As you have yet to select a first officer, respectfully I would like to submit my candidacy. Should you desire I can provide character references.”

Like two planet drawn together by a gravitational anomaly you match your steps with his until you’re inches apart from one another.

“It would be my honor Commander.”

There is a second in which time seems to stop and it’s hard to tear your gaze from Spock’s, but it passes and he nods before brushing past you to assume his position. You recall another instance when time disobeyed all laws and allowed you both a stolen moment, but with a wry smile you realize that was another universe.

“Take us out,” you order and the stars flash before your eyes as if saying ‘ _Welcome home_ ,’ and you don’t need to look behind you to know the others see it too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm working on Chapter 3 (which will cover Into Darkness) as I type this and while I don't want to promise that I'll have it posted today - it's entirely possible I'll have it posted tomorrow if my muse holds true. 
> 
> I work retail and between my promotion and the holidays I foresee less and less free time in my future. I shall endeavor to write a little every time I'm able. I hope you'll stick around to see this to completion.


	3. Highest Fall You'll Ever Grace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's 1:25 in the morning and I've been writing this chapter non-stop for the past five hours. 
> 
> The things we do for love.

If you ever meet the guy who said ‘what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger’ – or something along those lines – you’ll be sure to see how strong he feels after you stun him a couple of times.

Four political missions under your belt and you’re ready to commit mass mutiny and take the Enterprise into the furthest reaches of unexplored space and hide there until Starfleet starts to take you seriously.

You were built for more than milk runs and they know it.

So when the planet Nibiru comes across your sensors complete with an inevitable cataclysmic volcanic eruption you jump at the chance to do some good outside of a painfully awkward dinner.

Spock pours over the data and with the help of the Science division creates a cold-fusion device that will render the volcano inert – thus sparing the lives of countless innocents.

On paper it looks flawless… if you ignore the Prime Directive that is.

“I am certain that we can assist this developing civilization without violating the Prime Directive.” Your voice is confident bordering on arrogant in your ship-wide address and your crew barely bats an eye since they are used to it by now.

Scotty’s protests try the border between concerned and insubordinate when Chekov parks her beneath the vast azure ocean. It’s your admiration for his skills that let his muttering go unheard even when Spock looks two seconds from writing a report.

Everything goes smoothly as you and McCoy infiltrate the village to steal an artifact that will draw them far from the volcano. It’s when you stun your ride that the mission begins to fall apart. McCoy curses your very existence as you cliff-jump after giving Spock the okay to commence with his part of the plan.

There’s water in your ear so you barely hear Scotty’s grumbling which hasn’t stopped since you left.

“Scotty!” you exclaim, with bigger issues on your mind, “where is Spock?”

“Still in the volcano, Sir.”

Your heart plummets into your stomach and Bones is seconds behind you when you hit the bridge. It’s chaos in your ears as the transmission cuts in and out. Uhura’s wide eyes meet yours and her fear is palpable: Acidic on your tongue.

“I activated the device, Captain. When the countdown is complete the reaction should render the volcano inert.”

You scramble for an answer that won’t cost you any lives, “I need to beam Spock back to the ship. Give me one way to do it!”

Adrenaline is the only thing keeping you standing as the inevitable begins to take shape and you refuse violently to accept that it’s come to this. Eyes fall to you as Spock dismisses your idea to employ the Enterprise.

“Our shuttle was concealed by the ash cloud, but the Enterprise is too large. If utilized in a rescue effort, it would be revealed to the indigenous species.”

Exasperated you nearly punch the console with your fist, “Spock, nobody knows the rules better than you, but there has got to be an exception.”

“None: Such action violates the Prime Directive.”

When McCoy speaks up you realize how bad it is and his words settle into your gut like lead.

“Shut up, Spock. We’re trying to save you, damn it!”

“Doctor, the needs of the many out weight needs of the few.”

You’ve heard that before lifetimes ago and there is no color in your face – just vibrant blue eyes begging for a solution.

“Spock’s we’re talking about your life!” you frantically shout in hopes Spock will see reason, but you know better.

“The rule cannot be violated in any case…” Spock begins but the comms fizzle out and all that’s left is silence. It rings in your ears as you tell Uhura to get him back but it doesn’t matter. Your shoulders ache from the weight of Spock’s life as panic slowly grips you.

“If Spock were here and I were there, what would he do?”

“He’d let you die,” McCoy’s bitterness freezes your blood and you’re certain that he’s right but that doesn’t matter because you can do something and dammit you’re going to.

“Let’s go get him.”

Chekov and Sulu react without a second’s pause and you’re parting the sea with your ship with just seconds to spare before it’s too late. You hear Scotty swear profusely as you run from the bridge to the transporter room with a prayer on your lips.

You cannot disguise the relief in your voice when Spock materializes on the pad.

“Spock! You alright?”

Your enthusiasm is not reciprocated.

“Captain you let them see our ship.”

Disbelief smacks into you with the force of a well-placed kick from an Andorian warrior, but you shake it off when you hear the barely veiled fury in Uhura’s voice. You figure she’ll knock sense into Spock so you let it go with a shrug.

“Come on Spock, they saw us: Big deal!”

\- - - - - - - - - -

You don’t give the summons from Admiral Pike much thought.

You’d been planetside for a week as Starfleet deliberated on which mission to send you on next.  The crew kept busy with repairs and paperwork, but you’d met up with most of them at a bar the night before. It feels weird being separate from them for long periods of time and you suspect the other share similar feelings.

Spock’s waiting for you at the fountain dressed to kill in his gray uniform. A thought strikes you halfway to the door and excitement floods your adrenal glands.

“I’m telling you Spock this is why he called, I can feel it!”

Spock is dubious, but you don’t let his lack of enthusiasm weigh you down. You’re used to his calm demeanor after months of missions together.

“A five-year mission, Spock: That’s deep space, that’s uncharted territories. Think of how incredible that’s going to be!”

You strut into Pike’s office ready for what you assume is the second best news you’ve gotten in your life. It doesn’t take long for you to figure out the meeting is headed in a different direction.

“Uneventful: That’s the way you describe the survey of Nibiru in your Captain’s Log.” Pike begins without so much as a ‘Hello Jim how are you?’

When you realize what’s happened – the real reason you were summoned – betrayal overwhelms you.

“You filed a report? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Spock looks unapologetic and his words do little to sooth you. In fact with every clinically placed word that falls from Spock’s mouth you find your urge to retaliate rising.

“I incorrectly assumed that you would be truthful in your Captain’s Log.”

It stings like a bitch and when you point out that you saved Spock’s life he manages to infuriate you further by offering to take ‘responsibilty’ for the violation of the Prime Directive.

“Oh yeah? That'd be so noble, pointy, if you were also throwing me under the bus!”

You refuse to let your anger dim as Spock cocks his head in curiosity, “Pointy? Is that a derogative reference?”

You’d have continued if Pike hadn’t interfered and traded his own quips with Spock who he dismisses quickly. He rounds on you and you’re defenseless at the onslaught Pike unleashes. Maybe if it had been anyone else it wouldn’t have hurt so much. Pike twists the knife until it hurts to breathe over the criticism you’ve heard before, but this time is different.

“I gave you my ship because I saw greatness in you and now I see you haven’t got an ounce of humility.”

‘ _No_ ’ you think desperately.

“You think you can’t make a mistake, it’s a pattern with you. The rules are for other people.”

‘ _Don’t do this_.’

“Given the circumstances, this has been brought to Admiral Marcus’ attention. He convened a special tribunal to which I was not invited. You understand what Starfleet regulations mandate be done at this point?”

Your world is ending and you’re helpless to stop it.

“They’ve taken the Enterprise away from you: They’re sending you back to the Academy.”

A sharp ringing overtakes your left ear and suddenly you cannot breathe. You start to plead with Pike, but he’s heard enough and dismisses you with a wave of his hand and parting words that will haunt you until you die.

“You don’t comply with the rules, you don’t take responsibility for anything, and you don’t respect the chair. You know why: Because you’re not ready for it.”

\- - - - - - - - - -

Dazed, you walk past Spock who attempts to grab your attention, but Uhura puts a hand on his arm and shakes her head. Defeat never looked good on you and she’s an expert at languages.

You shed your uniform and leave it to rot on your floor before donning your favorite leather jacket. You’re not sure how many drinks warm your throat before you’re abruptly not alone and his eyes are kind as they taken in your face which feels as if its aged ten years.

It’s a poor imitation of the first time you’d met and reminiscing makes you feel cheated out of a destiny that was never really yours. The old Spock had it wrong and Pike’s words prove it.

“They gave her back to me; The Enterprise.”

You can’t be mad at Pike so you take a dig at Spock out of spite because you’re fiercely hurting and thought he’d understood, “Congratulations. Watch your back with you first officer, though.”

“Spock’s not going to be working with me. He’s been transferred to the USS Bradbury. You’re going to be my first officer.”

You look up in disbelief because there’s no way you just heard what you think you did. Pike chuckles and then assures you, “Yeah, Marcus took some convincing, but every now and then I can make a good case.”

You’re reluctant to ask but curiosity is your oldest sin.

“What did you tell him?”

“The truth: That I believe in you and if anybody deserves a second chance, it’s Jim Kirk.”

You’re barely able to stave off the tears, but your thick voice and glistening eyes give you away, but Pike doesn’t comment on your emotional display; though he does attempt to console you.

“It’s going to be okay son,” he swears and you let yourself believe him all the way to Daystrom for an emergency meeting.

Along the way you prepare yourself for the inevitable conversation you’ll have with Spock and you want to laugh at the universe when you play ‘catch-up’ in the lift. Nowhere to hide you grit your teeth and wait for Spock to speak. He does not disappoint.

“Captain –“

“Not anymore, Spock: First Officer,” you correct, “I was demoted and you were reassigned.”

“It is fortunate that the consequences were not more severe.” Spock scolds and you’re ready for the cosmic joke to end at any second.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you sigh to yourself as the lift continues to take its sweet time. You take it back – you don’t want to have this conversation right now, but Spock doesn’t take the hint and he persists.

“Captain, it was never my intention to…”

“Not captain,” your voice is hard, “I saved your life Spock. You wrote a report and I lost my ship.”

Spock catches on and corrects himself before continuing, “Commander, I see now I should have alerted you to the fact that I submitted the report.”

You’re having this conversation whether you like it or not so you stop stalling and go for it.

“Now I’m familiar with your compulsion to follow the rules but, see, I can’t do that. Where I come from, if someone saves your life you don’t stab them in the back.”

“Vulcans cannot not lie,” Spock says with a hint of reproach in his voice and it makes you feel guilty for a half-second before it passes.

“Then I’m talking to the half-human part of you alright? Do you understand why I went back for you?”

You need Spock to understand more than you need your ship in that moment. Long nights bent over a chessboard, countless hours spent filling out reports and rehashing the ins and outs of diplomatic missions; the moments stolen between still space when you’d joke and Spock’s brow would quirk in amusement though he’d deny it.

Spock’s on the edge of replying although you doubt he even knows what he wants to say when the lift opens and Captain Frank Abbott makes himself known.

You’re steps from the conference room when you turn and try again.

“The truth is I’m going to miss you.”

Spock freezes and you think ‘ _Oh great I broke him_ ,’ as the seconds tick by. When it becomes apparent that Spock’s got nothing your dismissal scoff tastes like ash on your tongue and you leave him behind without looking back.

\- - - - - - - - - -

Maybe if you’d been briefed beforehand you’d have seen it coming sooner.

Maybe if you hadn’t been distracted by Spock and the loss of your ship the attack would’ve been unsuccessful.

Maybe if you hadn’t lost the Enterprise in the first place, Admiral Pike would still be alive.

There is nothing poetic about death – you don’t care what they say.

The wake of Harrison’s attack leave Starfleet reeling, but it is the vision of you kneeling next to his body, tears running down your face, that they will recount in the months to come.

You feel the world tilt beneath your feet when you see Pike’s body and there’s screaming but no one else can hear it because it’s all in your head. You want more than anything to hear his voice tell you it will be okay, but you’ve already gotten that gift and now it’s a lie.

The first man to ever believe in you is dead and you wonder if this is what it feels like to lose a father. If this is even a fraction of what Sam felt all those years ago you regret the dismissal of the ghost he called ‘dad’.

Your grief pulses over you like a tidal wave until your lung burn with the withheld sobs because you can’t make a sound; you won’t give Harrison the satisfaction of your vocalized despair.

Spock is a steady presence behind you as you curl onto Pike’s still chest because it’s too much to hold yourself up. The weight of it all collapses with you and for a second you contemplate lying there until the darkness eventually takes pity and guides you away.

The ground does not swallow you whole and you can hear the panicked shouts of survivors until the world crashes back into you – startling your grief free of its hold long enough for you to stand on shaky legs and slowly make your way to the broken window where Harrison vanished before your eyes.

You hand is still curled from patting Spock’s shoulder numbly and something hardens until you are unforgiving steel.

You will find John Harrison and you will make him pay.

\- - - - - - - - - -

“It’s a portable transwarp beaming device.” Scotty reveals the next day.

One answer down and one more to go.

Spock plays the part of your shadow as you rush into Admiral Marcus’ office.

“Admiral, Sir, he is not on Earth. He’s on Kronos, sir. I request my command to be reinstated and your permission to go after him.”

The situation you’re facing mimics the Narada Incident in the way that time flies forward without your permission. Marcus is hesitant for a moment before caving to your request.

“He got to be hiding there, sir. He knows if we even go near Klingon space, it will be all out war. Starfleet can’t go after him, but I can. Please, sir.”

‘ _I’ll rip him to pieces Admiral, please let me go_ ,’ you don’t say but he gets the message all the same. Maybe you don’t agree that war is inevitable – but you can’t go alienating the man who’s giving you your ship and Spock back in one fell swoop.

“Pike always said you were one of our best and brightest. You should have heard him defend you. He’s the one who talked you to joining Starfleet, wasn’t he?”

Your affirmative fuels your desire to see justice.

“As part of our defensive strategy, a new photon torpedo was developed: Long range, untraceable. It will be invisible to Klingon sensors. I don’t want you hurt, but I want to take him out. You park on the edge of the Neutral Zone, you lock on to Harrison’s position, you fire, you kill him and hall ass.”

You ask no questions and expect no answers even though something in the back of your mind starts flashing in warning. If this is what it takes to avenge Pike’s death you’ll take it and look towards the stars and away from the tombstones.

Spock and McCoy do their best to suss out your mental state as you board the shuttle that’ll take you back to your girl.

“I’m fine Bones.”

“The hell you are.”

Same shit, different day.

“Captain, thank you for requesting my reinstatement. As I am again your first officer, it is now my duty to strongly object our mission perimeters.”

“Of course it is.”

After a little back and forth that almost reassures you that your crew is ready for the undertaking, Carol Wallace walks into your life and provides a much needed distraction from Spock’s nagging.

“The more than merrier,” you nearly hiss at Spock whose feathers are definitely ruffled, “Have a seat, Doctor.”

If the conversation on the shuttle was meant to warn you about the tone of the mission it failed miserably as you find Scotty throwing a tantrum in docking.

“I cannae authorize any weapons onboard this ship without knowing what’s inside them.”

Back and forth you go with McCoy at your heels as you try and reason with Scotty, but he does not budge.

“Sign for the torpedoes. That’s an order.”

“Right, well you leave me no choice but to resign my duties.”

A voice in the back of your head shouts in time with Scotty and you cannot afford to participate in this song and dance while Harrison relaxes on Kronos. Everything is spiraling out of control and the dismissal leaves your mouth before you realize what you’ve done.

“I’m giving you a choice Scotty!”

“I will not stand by…do you accept my resignation or not?!”

“I do!”

Your shout garners the attention of those who’d been watching you since you boarded. Disbelief doesn’t settle well on Scotty’s face as you reluctantly continue, “I do. You are relieved, Mr. Scott.”

‘ _It’s all falling apart_ ,’ the voice says and you ignore the look on McCoy’s face before retreating to the lift.

\- - - - - - - - - -

Your friendship with Uhura was hard won, but it’s worth it when she seeks to console you on the ride up to the bridge.

You send Chekov to Engineering in hopes he’ll be able to perform the miracles Scotty was able to, but the look of terror on his face does everything but reassure you. Uhura opens a ship-wide channel and you struggle for a moment to think of what to say.

“Attention, crew of the Enterprise. As most of you know, Christopher Pike former captain of this ship, and our friend, is dead. The man who killed him has fled our system, and is hiding in the Klingon home world; somewhere he believes we are unwilling to go. We are on our way there now. Per Admiral Marcus’ orders it is essential that our presence go undetected. Tensions between the Federation and the Klingon Empire have been high; any provocation could lead to all-out war.”

You pause and look at Spock who hasn’t taken his eyes off you since greeting you at the lift.

“I will personally lead a landing party to an abandoned city on the surface of Kronos. There we will capture the fugitive, John Harrison, and return him to Earth so he can face judgment for his actions. Alright, let’s go get this son of a bitch: Kirk out.”

Tension leaks out of Spock as he stands beside you and offers to join you on the away team. The itch beneath your skin that’s been screaming for attention since exiting Marcus’ office has eased and for the first time since Pike died you feel like you’re on the right path.

After a sudden jolt and confirmation that Chekov did not indeed break your ship, the away team is assembled despite McCoy’s fervent protests that the Enterprise’s sudden malfunction was a warning.

“Jim, you’re not actually going down there, are you? You don’t rob a bank when the getaway car has a flat tire!”

Waving his protests away you reply, “I’m sure Engineering will have us all patched up by the time we get back. Isn’t that right, Mr. Chekov?”

To which Chekov swears to do his best. It’s good enough for you so you pass the command to Sulu and give Hendor and Jax special disguises in hopes of hiding Starfleet’s involvement in this operation.

Piloting a ship you’ve seen a handful of time in real life is more difficult than you’d thought it’d be especially when Uhura and Spock decide to work on their relationship problems while undertaking a potentially life-threatening mission.

“Are you really doing this now?” you ask in disbelief.

“I’m sorry, Captain. Just two seconds. At that volcano you didn’t give a thought to us; what would it do to me if you died Spock. You didn’t feel anything. You didn’t care. And I’m not only one who’s upset with you, the Captain’s is too.”

While correct in her statement, you want nothing to do with his discussion and you say as much without reservation.

“No, no don’t drag me into this.”

Then, however since you’re taking a little bit of joy in how uncomfortable Spock is with the current conversation you turn your head slightly until you can make out the side of his face,  
“She is right.”

There are good times and bad times for heart-to-hearts and you silently hope that you’ve ended this one.

You’re wrong – of course.

“Your suggestion that I do not care about dying is incorrect. A sentient beings optimal chance to maximizing utility is a long and prosperous life,” Spock begins softly and your frustration flares to life along with Uhura’s.

“You misunderstand; it is true I chose not to feel anything upon realizing that my own life was ending. As Admiral Pike was dying I joined with his conscience and experienced what he felt at the moment of his passing…anger, confusion, and loneliness; fear. I had experienced those feelings before, multiplied exponentially on the day my planet was destroyed, such a feeling is something I choose never to experience again. Nyota, you mistake my choice not to feel as a reflection of my not caring, while I assure you, the truth is precisely the opposite.”

It’s the most human thing Spock has ever said and it’s possible you would’ve said something equally moving if your vessel had not been struck by a hostile Klingon.

You’ll never know what the end of the conversation would’ve revealed as you’re forced to land and fight your way through a maze of pissed Klingons who want your death more than they want justice done. Hendor and Jax are knocked unconscious as you and Spock are separated while trying to reach Uhura.

When you finally see Harrison he is taking down a Klingon who surely would’ve taken pleasure in ending your life. It only serves to enrage you further and when the fighting is done you don’t think about throwing the first punch. One turns to two which dissolves into three and four and your fingers are broken and bleeding, but he still stands without a mark on him.

He’s already surrendered, but it doesn’t matter. Pike’s lifeless form flashes before your eyes and your leg shoots out to kick Harrison who is bent over. Nyota calls to you, but you ignore her as rage settles into your bones and you break another finger on Harrison’s jaw.

“Cuff him,” you order as you walk away without feeling a thing.

\- - - - - - - - - -

McCoy barely restrains himself as he fixes your hand.

People in the halls give you a wide berth, no doubt the story of what happened on Kronos has made its rounds and the crew watches you carefully as if you’ll strike them next. Bile sits in your throat when you go to interrogate Harrison with Spock and McCoy close by.

There is nothing bright in you; savage tears and a split lip you refused to let McCoy magic away. You want to hurt and you want to hurt Harrison. There is darkness in your soul that you know cannot be washed away.

“Why aren’t we moving, Captain: An unexpected malfunction perhaps in your warp core, immediately stranding you on the edge of the Klingon space?”

The surety in his voice makes your blood boil, but that itch has returned so you settle down and act the part of Captain in order to get answers.

“Ignore me, and you will get everyone on this ship killed.”

Something in you snaps and your words are brutal and filled with a loathing you didn’t think yourself capable of.

“Let me explain what’s happening here. You are a criminal. I watched you murder innocent men and women: I was authorized to end you and the only reason why you are still alive is because I am allowing it. So shut your mouth.”

Harrison lets your words wash over him before giving you 72 reasons not to trust Starfleet and you hate yourself for listening to him, but you will not endanger your crew one second longer and you storm off in search of answers.

You comm Scotty and pass on coordinates Harrison shared with you and hope he’s not too sore with you to help out. Spock and McCoy are against indulging Harrison, but when you find out that your newest Science Officer is actually the daughter of Admiral Marcus you send her and McCoy down to a planetoid in order to dissect a missile that caused both Carol and Harrison concern.

You’re not sure what’s worse: Harrison being right or you being swept up in a storm of rage that blinded you to the truth Scotty hinted at.

You almost lose McCoy as the missile arms itself and it’s Uhura’s steady hand on your shoulder that keeps you from falling apart on the bridge.

McCoy’s waiting for you in Sickbay and your mind reels at the person suspended the cryo-tube. It makes no sense and once more you feel the universe unraveling around you at frightening speed and you can’t take the helpless feeling bubbling in your chest so you go to see Harrison for the truth – all of it.

“Why is there a man in that torpedo? Who the hell are you?”

The tale spun for you is designed to pluck at your heartstrings and if this man hadn’t killed Admiral Pike perhaps you’d let yourself get swept up in the story.

“John Harrison was a fiction created the moment I was awoken by your Admiral Marcus to help him advance his cause: A smoke screen to conceal my true identity. My name is Khan.”

‘ _Starfleet is not a militarized institution_ ’ you want to scream at the glass but you’re tied in knots and cannot decipher where the truth ends and the lie begins. It’s history repeating itself in the worst way and you’re scared what this means for your crew and for those in Starfleet untouched by Admiral Marcus’ madness.

“Marcus used me to design weapons; to help him realize his vision of a militarized Starfleet. He sent you to use those weapons, to fire my torpedoes on an unsuspecting planet, and then he purposely crippled your ship in enemy space, leading to one inevitable outcome: The Klingons would come searching for whoever was responsible and you’d have no chance of escape. Marcus would finally have the war he talked about, the war he always wanted.”

Cold settles into your bones as if to brace you for the brunt force of the horrific truth Khan has presented. In this, he has no reason to lie and when the numbers add up in your head fear grips you and does not let go.

“You’re a murderer!”

Holding onto your hatred of Khan is the only thing keeping you standing as you try and tear into his fable: Refusing to see him as anything but the villain in this story.

“He used my friends to control me! I tried to smuggle them to safety by concealing them in the very weapons I had designed, but I was discovered and I had no choice but to escape alone. When I did I had every reason to suspect that Marcus had killed every single one of the people I hold most dear. So, I responded in kind. My crew is my family, Kirk.”

You don’t want to hear this – you don’t want to know this monster is capable of love.

He strikes at your heart, “Is there anything you would not do for your family?” and does not hide his grief when your eyes meet.

Your response is cut short by the approach of an unknown ship so you head back to the bridge with Khan’s words determined to follow.

\- - - - - - - - - -

You throw up the shields before you’re hailed.

The transmission’s broadcasted ship wide and you’ll be glad for that later after the dust settles. Admiral Marcus does little to hide his displeasure and you scramble for a way to distract him long enough to come up with an escape plan.

“I wasn’t expecting to get word that you’d taken Harrison into custody in violation of your orders.”

You respond in kind, “Well, we had to improvise when our warp core unexpectedly malfunctioned. But you already know that, sir.”

Playing dumb was always your strong suit and you pray it doesn’t fail you now when Admiral Marcus inquires as to the meaning of your words.

“That’s why you are here, isn’t: To assist with our repairs? Why else would a head of Starfleet personally come to the edge of the Neutral Zone?”

The hairs on the back of your neck stand as the danger level grows in this game you’re already sure you’ve lost when Sulu tells you you’re being scanned. The con’s over when Marcus surmises that you’ve spoken with Khan and gotten his side of the story. In an act of desperation you comply with his orders long enough for Marcus to end the transmission and for you to order the ship into warp even though you know it’ll likely shake your girl apart before you make it back to Earth.

Your gamble fails when Marcus’s ship catches up; his warp capabilities superior to yours and the warning alarm signifying a hull breach stops your blood cold as you’re knocked into stillness 237,000 kilometers from Earth.

Carol is frantic on the bridge, ready and willing to use her relationship with her father in hopes he will see reason and leave the Enterprise alone. A dozen things happen at once after she’s forcefully beamed off the bridge and Marcus condemns your crew to death at traitors.

“Captain Kirk, without authorization, and in league with the fugitive John Harrison you went rogue in enemy territory. Leaving me choice, but to hunt you down and destroy you. Lock phasers.”

The desperation overwhelms you and you’re seconds from breaking down in tears that will surely burn you alive. You’re on the cusp of a panic attack as you attempt to bargain for your crew’s life. They deserve better than this; better than you.

“Sir, my crew was just following my orders. I take full responsibility for my actions, but they were mine, and mine alone. If I transmit Khan’s location to you now all that I ask is that you spare them. Please, sir. I’ll do anything you want. Just let them live.”

You understand sharply why a man would kill to protect his family. Perhaps in another universe your roles are reversed; yours and Khans. So many innocents wait with baited breath as Marcus crushes their hopes without remorse.

“I was never going to spare your crew. Fire at will”

You’ve never heard a silence quite so loud. You’re shaky as you turn to face them; eyes wide and faces ashen – a hundred lives flash before unwilling eyes damp with unshed tears. Words fail you as you look to Spock and Uhura who’re leaning into each other for what will likely be the last time.

All those paths laid at your feet vanish and you know it’s your fault.

“I’m sorry.”

Such an inadequate phrase that’s shortly forgotten after the destruction does not come and when you hear Scotty’s voice you nearly weep in relief.

“Guess what I found behind Jupiter!”

You lose him before he’s able to give you a permanent solution to the problem at hand, but you don’t let it worry you. An idea is taking shape in the back of your mind and you pass the comm to Spock without waiting for a reply.

“Captain, I strongly object…”

He follows you down the hall and his determination would be commendable if it wasn’t getting in your way.

“To what?  I haven’t said anything yet.”

“Since we cannot take the ship from the outside, the only way we can take it is within, and as large boarding party would be detected, it is optimum for you take as few members of crew as possible. You will meet resistance, requiring personnel with advanced combat abilities and innate knowledge of that ship. This indicates that you plan to align with Khan, the very man we were sent here to destroy.”

If you survive this you make a mental note to write a glowing commendation for Spock’s both brilliant and annoying skills of deduction. He probably knew what you were going to do before you did.

“I will go with you, Captain.”

‘ _Over my dead body_ ,’ you nearly say, but something stops you.

“No, I need you on the bridge.”

It’s the first time in almost a year that you hear true frustration in Spock’s voice and it warms a spot near your heart that you’re the cause of such emotion. You wonder if Spock understands yet, or if he’s as clueless as he was in that volcano.

“I can’t allow you to do this. It’s my function aboard this ship to advise you making the wisest decisions possible, something I firmly believe you are incapable doing in this moment.”

You splinter apart and wonder briefly if there’s anything in the universe strong enough to pull you back together after all of this.

“You’re right! What I am about to do it doesn’t make any sense, it’s not logical, it is a gut feeling. I have no idea what I’m supposed to do. I only know what I can do. The Enterprise and her crew need someone in that chair who knows he’s doing. And it’s not me.”

The admission stings less than it did when the Enterprise was taken from you. Pike had been right and he’s not even alive to see this spectacular moment of personal growth.

“It’s you, Spock.”

You turn before you can take in the emotions waring in Spock’s eyes and if it feels like a goodbye you hope it doesn’t break what’s left of your spirit.

\- - - - - - - - - -

Like most of your plans, this one doesn’t go off without a hitch.

Flying blind through a field of debris excluded, you’d say it didn’t go too bad since you’re safely on Marcus’ ship with Scotty and Khan.

You’ve no idea what’s happening on your ship, but you hope Spock’s trying to ensure the safety of the crew in case you fail. Scotty watches Khan uneasily and you confirm his suspicions just before entering the foreign bridge.

“The minute we get to the bridge, drop him.”

“What stun him? Isn’t he helping us?”

You shake your head, “I’m pretty sure we’re helping him.”

That killer gut of yours proves correct again when your takeover of bridge falls to pieces after Khan recovers from Scotty’s phaser and slowly crushes Marcus’ skull between his hands in front of a screaming Carol. Your insides twist as you fight the urge to vomit the little contents of your stomach over the black floor.

Scotty goes down without fuss and Khan has you by the neck in front of your crew who are forced to watch you go down after he strikes you in the back of the head.

You come to in Khan’s cell with Scotty kicking frantically at the glass and Carol whimpering in a broken mix of grief and injury. There are only seconds for you to realize what’s happened when the Enterprise lurches violently as if caught in the wave of an explosion.

“The torpedoes, he armed the damn torpedoes.”

It’s something you might have done if the roles were reversed and pride swells in your chest when you see McCoy on the other side of the glass. They did just fine without you and it feels better than you thought it would.

Khan’s crew is safe in their cryo-tubes and you’re certain the delight on your face can be seen in the darkest reaches of space. The brief moment of victory is short lived when the lights flicker and you feel her begin to fall from grace. You and Scotty race to Engineering and when the gravity fails you nearly fall to your death, but Chekov catches you and there’s still hope.

You can still save the crew.

“Even if we get the warp core online we’ve still got to redirect the power.”

Scotty and Chekov make plans as you hurry to the heart of your ship. You don’t have time to decipher what they’re saying, but you don’t have to be an engineer to understand what Scotty says next.

“The housings are misaligned, there’s no way we can redirect the power. The ship’s dead, sir. She’s gone.”

You’d think the human heart could only take so much stopping and restarting, but you’re pretty sure you’re wired differently due to being born in space. You hear what Scotty’s saying and you also here what the universe is saying.

‘ _When it’s time to go…_ ’

“No she’s not.”

Scotty’s barely a step behind you catching onto your plan and trying to forcibly stop you.

“Wait, Jim. If we go in there, we’ll die. Do you hear me? The radiation will kill us!”

You know that, which is why you turn in time to say a silent goodbye before knocking him unconscious and strapping him into a safety harness.

“You’re not making the climb.”

\- - - - - - - - - -

The second time radiation leaves its mark on you is also its last.

It’s brutal in the way it sneaks under your skin and sets your blood on fire. It’s unforgiving in the way it knocks around in your brain until you can’t tell up from down. You push through the pain and climb up the core until you find the problem.

You clamor up and swing your legs through the unending ache until finally the core realigns and you’re thrown to the ground with the sudden breath of life she takes and you nearly die right there in her heart.

It’s a chore to remind yourself how to crawl.

You do not die standing tall and proud; instead you’re crawling broken and tired back to where you said your goodbyes. The first thing you see is the vibrant red of Scotty’s shirt and it doesn’t remind you of the blood in your body that feels like black sludge, but rather the snow cones you and Sam used to eat as kids.

You muster the strength to close the compartment behind you, but it doesn’t matter. You’ve become an isotope and no one would touch you again. It’s in your bones now; there is no rescue coming.

Blue flashes in the corner of your eye and yes, it’s Spock and no, he looks so sad it breaks your stuttering heart.

“How’s our ship?”

You can’t go until you know, until you’ve told Spock everything you haven’t told anyone before. That no-win scenario has caught up to you now.

“Out of danger,” Spock assures, “You saved the crew.”

You almost go then; the relief cools your burning skin and you feel the tears gather in the eyes that you once hated.

“You used what he wanted against him. That was a nice move.”

“It is what you would’ve done.” Spock’s voice shakes.

There’s a parallel here and you wondered how you could’ve missed it glowing behind the shadows of another man’s memories locked in your brain. You have seconds left; you have to make them count. You gain nothing if you try to save face so as the radiation strips you bare you let Spock see all that remains of the great James T. Kirk.

“And this is what you would have done. It was only logical. I’m scared, Spock. Help me to understand. How do you choose not to feel?”

You long for the ability to wipe the stray tear that streak down Spock’s face. His agony touches you through the glass as his voice cracks.

“I do not know. Right now I am failing.”

‘ _I wish I could spare you this pain_ ,’ your mind supplies, but there is something more important to be said.

“I want you to know why I couldn’t let you die…why I went back for you.”

Time stops like crooked clockwork, granting you one last glance at Spock before you're swept away. You’ve been here before – a couple decades into the future you can hear a voice that sounds familiar and yet not. It’s warm with time and holds unspeakable experience you’ll never know.

“ _You once said being a Starship Captain was my first, best destiny. If that’s true, then yours is to be by my side. If there’s any true logic to the universe we’ll end up on that bridge again someday_.”

The edges are dimming and you’re losing the memories that belong solely in this universe and ones that will never come to pass. Your hand is cold on the glass but you swear you can feel the warmth of Spock’s skin through it. His voice fades out, but you hear him loud and clear before death finally catches up.

“Because you are my friend.”

‘ _Surely there’s a better word than that_ ,’ is your last thought when you finally stop running.

There is nothing poetic about dying – you don’t care what they say.

\- - - - - - - - - -

You crash into consciousness with all the reckless gusto you had in life.

“Oh don’t be so melodramatic, you were barely dead. The transfusion is what really took its toll. You were out cold for two weeks.

Of course McCoy’s voice would be the first thing you hear after waking up, but it feels right so you fight past the confusion in order to understand exactly how – and why – you’re awake.

“Once we caught Khan, I synthesized a serum from his super blood. Tell me, are you feeling homicidal? Power-mad? Despotic?”

There are a handful of responses forming in your scrambled brain, but you keep it simple. It’s safer that way.

“No more than usual. How’d you catch him?”

“I didn’t.”

Your eyes lock onto Spock who’d been standing there since you came to and probably long before that if you’re reading the wrinkles in his uniform correctly.

“You saved my life.”

They’re four words that feel inadequate and empty when it comes to what you really want to say, but they’ll have to do in present company because you’re still not sure if this is the universe’s sick idea of a fever dream.

“You saved my life and the lives of countless others…”

Your first smile after coming back from the dead is tinged with exasperation and you’re positive the universe couldn’t copy the affection curling behind your ribs as Spock looks down sheepishly.

“Thank you Spock.”

Your eyes lock and you’re reminded vividly of the second you thanked a higher power for the gift of Spock being the last thing you’d see. You patiently wait for time to do its thing and it does not disappoint.

“You are welcome, Jim.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to spend the first half of the 4th chapter dedicated to Jim's healing before tacking the first two years of their five year mission. I had hoped to keep this at 5 chapters, but I doubt that's gonna happen. There's so much to write - I just cannot stop myself.
> 
> Also I apologize for any errors I did not catch - I've written over 16K words in one day with little rest between pages and the screen is a little blurry. I just had to post this chapter though...


	4. Take Another Breath

Earth’s colors are mid-change when you take your first steps outside.

Your lungs take in the sharp cold with minor resistance which you consider to be a good sign considering how three days ago you nearly seized when Sulu stopped by with an off-world bouquet. McCoy cursed a blue streak and hit you with every hypo he had handy until you could breathe steadily without twitching. It took all of your breathless assurances to ease Sulu’s pale countenance before he’d leave without looking like he’d resign his commission.

You’d been quarantined for two weeks and the taste of freedom was addicting.

It was all and illusion however, since you could feel three sets of eyes boring into the back of your skull. McCoy, Spock, and Scotty all stood ready to leap to your assistance at the slightest waver in your step. If you even sneezed – or hinted that you might – McCoy would lock you away in your metaphorical tower until the next global disaster.

“Alright that’s good enough,” McCoy calls after gesturing for Spock to grab your wheelchair.

Objections rise in your throat, but die when the ground shifts and your eyes slide close without your permission. Spock’s got his hands on your arms and he eases you down until everything stops spinning.

“That was fun,” you croak.

i

You lean back and your head knocks against Spock’s stomach. It’s a testament to how you’ve both grown that when you smile up, in an attempt to lighten the mood, Spock doesn’t flinch – but instead leans slightly into your touch and allows his eyes to soften.

“I told you it was too soon,” McCoy interrupts the quiet with a growl and shoves a tricorder in your face.

Swatting it away, you’re ready to defend yourself, but the ground moves again and you curl into your stomach in hopes of making the world stand still. When that fails, you stop resisting and thank Spock under your breath once he helps you into bed. The hiss of your third hypo follows you into a dreamless sleep.

Spock is there when you wake up.

The glow from his PADD illuminates the furrow of his brow and the slight downturn of his lips. You study him beneath your lids until he senses your gaze and the agitation falls from his face leaving behind a mask you’re still learning to read.

“What’s wrong now?”

You throat is sore, but Spock is quick with a glass of water and the cold settles in your stomach, easing the ache of hunger.

“With our return, Starfleet has set a date for Admiral Pike’s funeral.”

You freeze and the reluctance in Spock’s voice does little to soothe the ache deep within your chest.

“They would like you to speak, Jim.”

You thought the world had finished putting you through the blender – the ringing in your ears makes it hard for you to focus on anything else but the pain. You don’t want to be awake right now and Spock must sense the chaos in your mind because he reaches out and touches your forehead briefly and with a tenderness you haven’t felt in years and you wake up fourteen hours later.

Spock is still there.

\- - - - - - - - - -

When Scotty isn’t knee deep in repairs to the Enterprise, he’s talking your ear off.

Uhura stops by after classes with Chekov hot on her heels and Sulu makes sure McCoy doesn’t kill the plants he brought to decorate your room. It’s a revolving door of familiar faces and their company keeps your mind off heavy subjects that soon you won’t be able to ignore.

“I’ll do it,” you tell Spock the night before your release.

He doesn’t say anything – just inclines his head and composes a message to Admiral Archer. You’ve been in the hospital for a month when McCoy finally clears you for ‘light’ duty.

“That doesn’t mean you’re in the clear Jim. There’s no telling what could happen. This could be the calm before the damn storm knowing your luck.”

It’s the worry on his lined face that makes you bite your tongue and reconstruct your response. 

“Okay Bones – I hear ya loud and clear.”

“Good and that’s why you’re staying with me until I can be sure you’re not gonna keel over.”

You sputter in protest, but McCoy doesn’t budge so you find yourself spending quality time on his couch until snow blankets the ground and you’ve proven your physical stability. It doesn’t stop McCoy and Spock from checking in regularly as if they’re waiting for the fallout.

You can’t blame them.

Some nights you wake, drenched in sweat and shaky from nightmares you know don’t belong to you. You see them die over and over again until you’ve lost your voice from crying out. There are dreams where Spock’s skin flakes and turns to ash at your feet: Dreams where your ship’s a streak of fire and death in a foreign sky. You wake cold most nights as if left in a frozen tomb for hundreds of years.

If the others sense a change in you, they don’t say anything.

Sometimes you catch McCoy frowning after reviewing tricorder readings and Spock’s perfected the art of deflection when you try and trick him into giving something away. Chekov’s enthusiasm borders on painful and Scotty doesn’t mention the improvements made to the warp core even though you know your ships heart is being repaired like your own had been.

You see shadows in the corner of your eye and voices follow you around your empty apartment. The unnerving familiarity of the ghosts in your mind prevents you from sleeping some nights. As you bore holes into the ceiling, the wind knocks against the windows asking to be let in and sleep seems mile away. You’ve never been more alone at night and yet it feels like strangers are waiting in the other room for you to join them.

You wonder what exactly you gained in death and lost in rebirth.

\- - - - - - - - - -

The ceremony takes place outside.

Your bones feel brittle as if the slightest touch will shatter what’s left of the body that gave way to death. Most of the eyes that land on you are wet with anguish and the accusations go unsaid, but you hear them anyway.

There’s talk of a memorial in the works – black obsidian and gold plaques to stand in place of the people who should be there instead. You’re painfully aware of the crushing weight on your chest as your mind runs through the names of your crew who stayed dead instead of waking in a hospital room surrounded by their loved ones.

No one knows that you died.

Or rather – the public that faces you doesn’t know.

Those who’d found themselves in medbay when your body was brought up were sworn to secrecy with their jobs hanging in the balance should they speak up. Most of the higher ups don’t even know that your heart had stopped for approximately ten minutes – they only know that you were close to death: You _almost_ died.

There are rumors of course, conspiracy theories that defy logic like your very existence. Those who know the truth are willing to overlook the gross violation of the Hippocratic Oath and the bruises on Spock’s hands that took longer to heal than they should have. Khan is locked away along with the secrets lurking in his blood.

“Death is the only certainty left Jim,” McCoy sighed with bourbon on his breath in the middle of a sleepless night, “they couldn’t handle the questions that’d arise when it’s proved false.”

Behind the curtain of platitudes Starfleet undergoes a complete reboot. The “peace-keeping” institute is stripped bare to reveal its weaknesses until people are resigning with half-assed excuses and ships are sent on political missions to reestablish positive relations in the wake of an almost realized war.

Your mother is promoted though she was reluctant to leave you.

“I can say no Jimmy. I can find something else to do with my life,” she lies with red eyes and limp hair that looks practically gray in the hospital lights.

You’re quick and honest with your reassurances.

“You’re one of the good ones Mom – Starfleet needs you if they’re going to rebuild.”

“They’ll need you too.” She smooths her hand along your cheek.

“Yeah.”

When it’s time for you to speak you nearly run from the stage. It’s Spock’s gentle nudge that feeds strength into your legs and your voice does not shake.

“I met Christopher Pike in a bar with a bleeding nose and busted lip. I wish I could say that was the last time he saw me at my lowest, but it wasn’t. Instead of writing me off as a lost cause, he watched me pick myself off the floor and offered me a chance to do better: To be better.”

Your voice is strong and clear even though you feel like you’ll break into a million pieces in front of everyone. Your crew stands in the front, shielding you from those who’d tear you down in the back and it’s their support that helps you go on.

“I’ve come a long way since that night and I have far to go still. There is nothing I can say to ease the ache you feel – that’s not why I’m here. All I can do is assure you that our short comings have caught up to us at a terrible cost; we must do better – we will do better.”

There’s so much more you want to say, but it becomes too much to look out and see the faces that hold similarities to the ones you saw on your ship just weeks ago. They want you to answer for the crimes committed and you’re not even sure who you are or if you can.

They all want a piece of you, but there is nothing left of you to give.

\- - - - - - - - - -

After suffocating in meeting after meeting you slip out of the back and walk the quiet streets at night.

There are no reporters hiding in the back alleyways or waiting at the illuminated street corner. They’re in for the night – fingers aching from getting what they needed down in time for the morning. You don’t’ care what they have to say about any of it: You know the truth, so does your crew and that’s what matters in the end. Your name can take the hit, it’s always been able to.

Paperwork’s being pushed through and the Enterprise will be yours once more, but at a cost you’d never imagined. The funeral plays in your head on loop until you can taste the despair in the back of your throat. It feels like drowning and some nights you wish you’d stayed dead.

You’ll never say it of course, but it doesn’t make it any less true.

The cost of your death is written on everyone’s faces – even Spock’s who is as constant as your shadow these days. There’s something they’re not telling you, but there are things you keep close to your chest as well so you can’t exactly demand answers. There are two different sides to every event; both sides of your death left you all older, but not necessarily wiser.

You’re not the only one who has nightmares.

Spock is waiting for you at the edge of the walk. He doesn’t turn to greet you: Just stares out at the calm water and you’d give anything to know what he’s thinking. The words twist and churn in your gut, but you hold them back and breathe in the fragile peace of the moment. Shoulders missing one another by millimeters, you’re stuck in a gravity that’s slowly decaying until he leans over and your hands nearly touch: The whisper of a kiss blocked by glass.

Spock’s unwavering in his silent support. He might not be telling you everything, but you hear what he wants you to loud and clear.

‘ _You are not alone, Jim._ ’

Five months pass before you’re told everything.

Sure, you knew the gist of it from McCoy and Spock, but there were glaring absences in their stories. It comes down to Uhura and Scotty realizing you didn’t quite grasp the seriousness of your death after a misplaced joke: (If looks could kill…)

“Captain,” Uhura’s barely able to contain her anger, “I’d refrain from saying that in front of Spock seeing as he nearly beat Khan to death with his bare hands.”

You’re not sure you heard her correctly, but Scotty’s face is devoid of color and her eyes are bright with tears.

“Aye Sir, he did. I haven’t seen Mr. Spock react like that… well… since the bridge when he attacked you.”

It takes your mind to process what’s being said and you’re suddenly afraid that two plus two doesn’t equal four because what they’re saying makes no sense. There’s no way your death catapulted Spock into a rage so severe that logic could not touch him. You think of what you would’ve done if the situation was reversed and you’re not expecting the bile to crawl up your throat at the thought: You’d want Khan to pay.

But you’re human and illogical and messy in a way Spock could never be, right?

“Oh Jim,” Uhura whispers before kissing your cheek and she’s gone out the door before your mind can process the feel of her lips on your skin. Scotty grasps your shoulder tightly and soon you’re alone trying to picture it in your mind: Spock beating Khan into submission; blinded by the grief your death evoked in him. It scares you.

It scares you because you’d have done the same thing.

\- - - - - - - - - -

Eight months pass and you’re reinstated.

The Enterprise is ready to venture back into space and so is her crew. They come back with bright eyes and steel backbones; ready and willing to tackle everything the five-year mission has to offer.

Some names have changed, but most stay the same. There is no absence of people who are prepared to follow you into the darkness of space.

You are terrified and excited in equal measure.

Mental and physical evaluations passed with flying colors; there is nothing holding you back from the Captain’s chair except for the nightmares. You’ve given up trying to hide them, so you enlist the help of McCoy and both Spock’s to combat the unlikely possibilities of homicidal personality transference.

“It’s three in the morning Jim – I swear to God I’ll strangle you.”

“While I do not agree with Dr. McCoy’s response I am certain that you are the same man from before Captain. Khan’s blood cannot change that.”

 “I must agree with my counterpart Jim – there is nothing in this universe that can change who you are in your heart. Get some rest; you have a big day tomorrow.”

You’re not sure what does it, but you wake the morning of the memorial refreshed and hopeful for the first time in months. Anxiety hides behind your eyes, but stays put for the most part as you face a crowd of solemn faces once more.

“There will always be those who mean to do us harm: To stop them, we risk awakening the same evil within ourselves. Our first instinct is to seek revenge when those we love are taken from us, but that's not who we are.”

You wish these words had come to you the first time.

“We are here today to rechristen the U.S.S. Enterprise, and to honor those who lost their lives nearly one year ago today. When Christopher Pike first gave me his ship he had me recite the Captain's Oath: Words I didn't appreciate at the time. Now I see them as a call for us to remember who we once were, and who we must be again.”

The pride in their eyes is enough to push back the cold creeping along your spine. You find Spock in the sea of gray and you wonder if his heartbeat hitched in his chest like yours did when your eyes locked. It’s new and old in the same breath – as if you’d always been waiting for the subtle shift between friend and more.

_Surely there’s a better word than that._

\- - - - - - - - - -

“Captain on the bridge.”

Setting foot on the Enterprise feels like coming home from a journey you can’t quite recall.

“It's hard to get out of it once you've had a taste, isn't that right, Mr. Sulu?” you ask playfully as Sulu tried and fails to hide the look of content on his face while leaning back in the Captain’s chair.

“’Captain’ does have a nice ring to it,” he teases, “Chair's all yours, sir.”

You take a deep breath and settle into your skin that stopped itching the second the lift doors slid open. Chasing the darkness away with a bright smile and a quick report from Scotty, you feel like the Captain again.

“Mr. Scott. How's our core?”

You make a note to stop by after shift: You can’t avoid it forever. You need to be able to look at where you died without fear.

“Purring like a kitten, Captain. She's ready for a long journey.”

‘ _So am I_ ,’ you think absently, ‘ _So are they_.’

McCoy is less than enthused, but you know some of it’s an act. You catch his eyes before they can look away from Carol Marcus and you beam. You’ll find some way to keep her on long enough for McCoy to make his move – the man deserves it.

Spock is not far from reach when he comes to stand at your side and the question’s out of your mouth before you realize it.

“Where should be go?”

There’s something just beyond sight in the back of Spock’s eyes when he turns to look at you. It warms your chest and settles in for the long haul.

“As a mission of this duration has never been attempted, I defer to your good judgment, Captain.”

You almost reach out, but stop in time to watch him head to his station before sliding into your chair. Five years is a long time and there’s no telling what’s going to happen: What’s going to change and evolve and conspire to push the boundaries of your courage and strength. You aren’t the same man you were when you relieved Pike and you’re glad.

You certainly won’t be the same man in a year; in five.

It excites your blood and when you give Sulu the order you can feel the collective sigh of relief and anticipation rush around the bridge.

“Mr. Sulu, take us out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started this yesterday morning - full of hope. Now I am empty and scared to live in this country that would see my rights stripped away. I tried to hide here, I really did.
> 
> I'm with you.


	5. You Put Up Your Defenses When You Leave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Has it really almost been a year since I updated this?
> 
> I am actually the worst kind of person ever. 
> 
> Please forgive me! If all works out well, it's possible I'll have the last chapter posted later this week. I hate leaving things unfinished and it seems like my muse decided to stop by for a tick.

The cliff crumbles beneath your feet and you’re falling.

Panic grips you in time with a pair of hands that nearly rip your arms from their sockets. Nails tear as they grate against the rock and there’s blood dripping into your eyes: Thick dust coats your throat and as you’re pulled onto stable ground your thanks are as shaky as your nerves. You collapse like a dying star and feel the tremors that rattle the chest beneath you.

His grip borders on painful, but you don’t mind.

Red shirts form a circle around you and Spock until you can hear Scotty’s voice and you blink to see the bright lights of your ship greeting you with anxious whirls and clicks.

The pounding in your ears makes it hard to hear anything except Spock’s labored breaths that match yours inhale for exhale. You make no move to extract yourself from his bruising hold and he does not let go until McCoy lays a hand on his shoulder and his words must be tender because you can make out the soft lines around his mouth as he speaks.

Spock’s eyes slide close and his hands fall to his side and you’re free: You still do not move.

It takes McCoy and Scotty helping you to your feet before your mind comes back online and your legs start to move of their own accord. You leave Spock on the transporter and turn in time to see the ghosts in his eyes that remind you of your own.

You learned long ago that missions wear masks to fool you into complacency. What appears easy can turn deadly and vice versa. The hazards of being an exploratory scientific vessel revealed themselves early on and you’re only eight months into a five-year expedition. You’re not sure if your heart can take this level of excitement.

Uhura is still recovering from your previous mission, but she sits up in alarm when she sees you enter sickbay. Her hand presses against her abdomen to push away the pain and you tell her to settle down; words barely reaching her over the fuss McCoy is making.

“Pretty sure you’re not acting Captain right now so I can do what I want,” she replies while making to slide out of bed, but McCoy is lightning fast.

“Set one foot on that floor Lieutenant and I’ll have you confined here another night.”

You almost expect her to rebel, but Uhura grumbles under her breath before settling back into bed, though she props herself up to keep an eye on you across the room.

“Now why can’t you be more like her Jim?”

You roll your eyes and let McCoy move and scan your body to his satisfaction. Uhura smirks and you barely resist the urge to stick your tongue out: Barely. By the time your head wound has stopped bleeding and you’ve been given something for the pain the situation planetside has been resolved.

“He’s going to make a great Captain someday,” you mumble to yourself when Sulu’s address has ended.

Uhura hums in agreement and McCoy eyes you carefully before wrapping your hands. There’s a lot left unsaid and that’s fine with you. Everyone on your ship is qualified for much more than their current positions, but they don’t seem to be going anywhere anytime soon. Your eyes sting, but you blame your concussion for making you weepy and tell McCoy with a warning look to drop it.

He does.

When Alpha shift ends the sickbay floods with visitors and you try not to look disappointed when Spock isn’t one of them.

“I’ll have my report to you before you’re out of here Sir,” Sulu assures and the idea of paperwork makes you grimace, but you’re sure to tell him how much you appreciate his initiative.

“Sure makes my job easier,” you grin and the strained chuckles raise the hairs on your arms. They look at you as if you’ll break and it’d offend you if you hadn’t died before. There are a dozen things you could say – hide behind humor to defuse the tension, but that never seems to go over well these days. Maybe you should quit joking about death: Especially around McCoy and Spock.

If the scowl on his face is any indication, McCoy’s expecting a good dose of self-deprecation so you bite your tongue and let the crew fuss over you with the illusion of good grace. It works or maybe that’s what they want you to think; you’ll have them written up for mutiny later when the room stops spinning.

An hour passes and you’re alone: The ship is quiet.

Spock doesn’t make a sound when he sits next to your bed.

You’d been fighting off the siren’s call of sleep since they left, but the allure of seeing him had kept you stubborn. It pays off in the end and you’re already smiling before you can turn your head to see Spock.

“Well that could’ve gone better,” you tease when Spock doesn’t speak after two minutes of silence.

His eyes catalogue your injuries and the urge to fidget strikes you between your ribs suddenly and without mercy. Spock doesn’t seem to be in the mood for jokes so you take a deep breath and lie still in hopes of appeasing the unease written on Spock’s face.

When he became so easy to read you’re not sure, but his face is as familiar as your own these days. You could blame time or trauma until you’re blue in the face, but the fact remains that you worked hard to close the initial distance between you long ago. Hard won over chess matches and death beds – the hazy memories of a life not yours fuels your drive for moments like this.

“Have we received new orders yet?”

Spock inclines his head, but is reluctant to share. You sigh and close your eyes suddenly more tired than you’ve been in months: You don’t want to fight right now. Your hands resting on your stomach slide down and sleep taps your shoulder gently so you follow her.

Before you’re completely immersed in sweetest slumber you feel Spock reach out and rest his trembling hand on top of yours.

“Thank you, Spock,” slips from your mouth and you wake up alone nine hours later.

You can still feel his touch.

\- - - - - - - - - -

The core is quiet.

You find yourself walking the corridors of Engineering at the height of the third shift and the skeleton crew turns a blind eye to their insomniac Captain. It’s been an uphill battle, but your nightmares are a thing of the past.

You had originally scoffed at the idea of therapy, but after finding you frozen in front of a glass door, hand glued to its cold surface, for the fifth time in the same week Spock had put his foot down and delivered you to a cranky McCoy.

“I’ve already tried talking to him about it Spock!” McCoy had grumbled into his hastily made coffee while you sat on an exam table, head bent like a sulking child.

“Then try again Dr. McCoy. Perhaps a different method is required. However the Captain is not sleeping and this must be addressed before we venture further into uncharted space.”

You opened your mouth in defense, but their identical glares cut your short so you twiddle your thumbs and curse your mutinous crew.

“Big baby,” McCoy rolls his eyes at your display before running a hand over his tired face, “Okay Spock, have it your way.”

“Thank you Doctor; sleep well Captain,” Spock quickly dismisses himself before you have a chance to react.

When the door slides closed you lunge off the bed and make to follow, but you’re yanked back and the sharp cold of a hypo is pressed into your neck.

“Dammit Bones!”

McCoy looks as unimpressed as ever with your tantrum, but that doesn’t stop him from pressing a cup of water into your unsteady hand. You down it and begin to feel woozy shortly after. The cup falls from your hands and McCoy helps you back onto the bed. He tucks you in and part of you is offended at the attack, but the part of you that hasn’t slept peacefully since your resurrection is grateful.

“You’re not the only one having trouble Jim so just accept it. Therapy starts tomorrow after Alpha shift and if you fight it so help me I’ll become the Boogieman you can’t wish away.”

You want to ask who else on his ship is suffering, but the circles beneath his eyes and the knowledge that Spock was awake during your late-night runs suddenly makes your chest ache. A couple things start to add up and in spite of your talent with mathematics you fall asleep with an unsolved variable that remains unknown for a long time.

Three years have suddenly passed in a blink of an eye and it feels like you’ve left something behind in a section of newly charted space.

Your arm stings from your latest political debacle. High tensions between the Teenaxi Delegation and the Fobonane Republic have left you with a headache the size of Jupiter, but thanks to Uhura’s quick thinking and wit a war has been avoided and Starfleet is willing to overlook your little hiccup. Before you head to the bridge you catch three hours of restless sleep and make an entry into your personal log that leaves you feeling more like a despondent poet than a decorated Captain.

“Captain's Log, Stardate 2263.2:  Today is our 966th day in deep space, a little under three years into our five year mission. The more time we spend out here, the harder it is to tell where one day ends and the next one begins. It can be a challenge to feel grounded when even the gravity is artificial.”

The crew smiles as you walk the brilliant halls of your ship. An ensign stops you with some forms that need your signature and you make a mental note to have Spock look over them during Alpha shift. You breeze past a couple who quickly release each other’s hands when they catch your eye, but you just nod cheerfully as you pass. There is something peaceful about their shared intimacy before they caught sight of you that makes your hand tingle in remembrance of another's touch.

“Our extended time in uncharted territory has stretched the ship's mechanical capacities. But fortunately our engineering department, led by Mr. Scott, is more than up to the job. The ship aside, prolong cohabitation has definitely had effects on interpersonal dynamics. Some experiences for the better, and some for the worse.”

Travelling through the empty sections of space leave little to do so you encourage the bridge staff to come prepared whether it be reading material or games to keep their reflexes sharp. There’s no way they could know about the forms and correspondents you send while lounging in the Captain’s chair and it’s better that way.

You have much to say, but are not sure how to say it just yet.

“As for me, things have started to feel a little... episodic. The farther out we go, the more I find myself wondering what it is we're trying to accomplish. But if the universe is truly endless, then are we not striving for something forever out of reach?”

Yorktown is a few hours away so you make time to meet with McCoy for a celebration you’d rather not have. You’ve never been a fan of your birthday and today is no different. By a cruel twist of fate and the meddling of a certain doctor you’ve managed to beat your father by a year: A year spent drifting almost aimlessly in charted, predictable, space. What have you done with the extra time granted to you?

Not a damn thing.

McCoy finds you downing the rest of the Saurian brandy and his eyes bulge out of his head as he berates you: Same shit, different day. The fact he snatched alcohol from Chekov’s locker, however is a change of pace and you both let the burn warm your bellies before the morbidity sets in.

“I’m one year older,” you mumble into your glass, “A year older than he ever got to be.”

The call you plan to have with your mother later will be less doom and gloom – or so you hope – but with McCoy you allow yourself this brief melancholy.

“He joined Starfleet because he believed in it: I joined on a dare.”

Pike creeps into the back of your mind and you welcome the bitter taste on your tongue.

McCoy isn’t here for the dark cloud hovering over your head however and is quick with the southern comfort.

“You joined to see if you could live up to him. You spent all this time trying to be George Kirk and now you're wondering just what it means to be Jim.”

Maybe he’s right, but you don’t have the time to dwell on it long once Sulu hails you. The Yorktown is a welcome distraction and as your crew filters from the Enterprise ready with their own plans to celebrate their limited freedom you are suddenly alone in a crowed space. Sulu embraces his daughter as Chekov flirts with a different ensign than last week: Spock is nowhere to be found and Scotty’s got plans you are not a part of. McCoy offers to stick close, but an old colleague of his from the academy catches his eyes and you wave him off.

When an unknown vessel suddenly shows up, you are glad for the distraction and you welcome the new challenge it brings. Uncharted space is nothing to scoff at, but your ship is the best and your crew is too. Commodore Paris does not hesitate to grant your request.

You were almost hoping to escape without addressing the elephant in the room, but one does not leave their ship without having many conversations with the higher-ups. To be honest, the idea of a promotion seemed daunting in the beginning, but as time passed ‘Admiral Kirk’ sounded less and less intimidating.

You recommend Spock as your replacement without a second thought and the knowing look in Commodore Paris’ eyes leave you feeling off –balanced for a moment. Her words follow you through Yorktown and back onto the Enterprise and they ring so loud you wonder if Spock can hear them too.

“It isn't uncommon, you know, even for a captain, to want to leave. There is no relative direction in the vastness of space. There is only yourself, your ship, your crew. It's easier than you think, to get lost.”

‘I’m not lost,’ you think defensively while straightening your cuffs in the elevator.

It doesn’t escape your notice that Spock is a little on edge and the fact that you both have something to discuss activates alarm bells in you head.

You try your best to shut them off, “We make a great team, don’t we?”

There’s something hidden in your words and Spock maintains eye contact as he inclines his head and agrees. You both have mastered the art of unspoken communication; too bad you’re both novices at saying what you mean.

Emotions have never been your strong point – you; emotionally stunted from years of trauma and Spock; taught from birth to suppress them. The irony of the conversation you’re to have in the future is not lost on you, but your eyes follow Spock across the bridge and the monotony of yesterday feels lightyears away.

Your address is short and to the point, but bolsters the crew nonetheless.

“Attention, the crew of the Enterprise. Our mission is straightforward: Rescue a crew stranded on a planet in uncharted space. Our trajectory will take us through an unstable nebula, which will disable all communications with the Starfleet. We will be on our own. The Enterprise has something no other ship in the fleet has: You. We have come to understand that there is no such thing as unknown, but only the temporarily hidden. Kirk out.”

During your time on the Enterprise your gut had served you faithfully. The closer you edge to the shifting mass of rocks and dust the more you sit on the edge of your seat. You believe in your crew and their abilities more than your own so the familiar sensation of dread that begins to bubble in your gut once you’re free and clear of the nebula has you ready to arm torpedoes before Uhura and Sulu can voice their own concerns.

Altamid seems like every other M-Class planet until the proximity alert has you standing and the crew waiting with baited breath.

Your hails go unanswered and suddenly you can see the shifting mass headed straight for your ship beneath the magnification and fear strikes you dead center, “Shields up! Red alert!”

The following seconds feel like hours as your ship is torn to shreds. Security personnel arm themselves and you barely have time to watch Spock and McCoy vanish in the lift to where the breech has occurred. The bridge lights up like a Christmas tree; red warning lights flashing as panicked reports come in of multiple enemies on the ship.

“Scotty I need warp now!” you vaguely recall yelling as Sulu pounds on his console trying to find power. Spock reports in, but the comm goes dead and you’re handing over the bridge without pausing to breathe.

It’s a warzone.

You kick and shoot your way past your enemies until the artifact from your botched peace-keeping mission is safe in your hands. There are a million questions bouncing around your skull as the ship is thrown every which way, but surviving the attack is more important. You help your crew get to their escape pods and enlist the help of Ensign Syl who is eager to help. It may not be your brightest idea, but you can’t save the crew and maintain the safety of the artifact at the same time. You’ve bought some time, but your ship is dying and you fight off the helplessness. By the time you find a second to hail the bridge it’s worse than you thought.

“We are losing the inertia dampeners. I have critical system failures ship wide, Captain. Emergency panels were shielding before, but structural integrity is at 18% and falling Sir.”

Time seems to pause as a panel near you explodes and nearly knocks you to the ground. The ringing in your ears gets louder until you can barely hear yourself give the order you’d hope to never give.

“Abandon ship, Mr. Sulu: Sound the alarm.”

\- - - - - - - - - -

The knowledge that your crew is being taken tears at your pride.

Fear pulses in the back of your mind as you lock eyes with Uhura. Scattered in the darkness, you’ve lost contact with Spock and McCoy; Scotty and now as your ship breaks apart you’re forced to leave her with a man who knows your name. Her eyes are sharp, but wide with an anxiety you’ve lived with all your life.

‘ _I’ll save you_ ,’ you silently promise and you know she can hear you.

Sulu’s face is ashen and you urge them to flee; your ship is dead and you have no choice.

Chekov helps Kalara to her pod and you want to shake the stranger who lead you to destruction, but that’ll have to wait. You make sure everyone’s Kelvin pods deploy safely and you can see the gray and green of the planet spread beneath you as the saucer plummets and burns.

You’re a year older than you father ever got to be and you’re just as scared as he was back then. The unknown status of your crew sets fire to your blood and panic wrings your stressed heart until breathing feels almost impossible.

You don’t have to go down with your ship: You can’t. Your mission isn’t over yet.

Leaving your father’s ghost standing amongst the crumbling bridge, you secure yourself in a pod and watch the Enterprises’ descent into mountains and alien terrain. The man you were this morning has shifted and evolved into a desperate creature whose heartbeat echoes the pattern of George Kirk’s before the final impact.

When the pod lands you waste no time slipping into your gear and Chekov’s voice grounds you until your phaser is pointed at Kalara’s chest.

Her panicked explanation does not ease the calamity in your soul, but you let it go and head towards the crash site. You’ve trusted the wrong person before and you’ve learned the hard way exactly what people are capable of. The scanners on the Enterprise are your only hope of finding the crew so you push forward, ignoring the stitch in your left side and the way your right thigh burns.

Seeing her alight with scattered fires brings you to a standstill just long enough to refuel your anger. The plan you’ve been crafting between interspersed dialogues with Chekov is set in motion and you’re almost disappointed to be proven right when Kalara pulls her weapon on you.

“What does Krall want with this thing?”

Her pitying gaze and reply only angers you more, “To save you from yourselves.”

Chekov’s timing is perfect and you race through the wreckage of your ship barely dodging enemy fire. The look on Kalara's face when she realized the artifact was not on the ship sent a thrill of glee through you, but she didn't feel the same. The last thing you want to do is damage the Enterprise further, but your adrenaline kicks you in the ass in the wake of an explosion. Chekov can barely keep up, but you slide down the saucer firing into the sky and it feels a little bit like flying off a cliff when you slam into the ground.

You don’t turn around to look until you’re a safe distance away.

‘ _Thanks girl_ ,’ you vow to avenge the ship that’s served you faithfully for three years and leave the smoldering grounds behind you.

“Lead on Chekov, to the coordinates you salvaged.”

“Aye Captain.”

You march in silence as the sun rises over the mountains to your left. The local flora and fauna is actually quite beautiful. It makes you think of Sulu and your resolve strengthens with each step. Five hours pass before Chekov speaks up.

“Captain, when did you begin to suspect her?”

It’s a bitter pill to swallow, but you answer truthfully.

“Not soon enough.”

Silence settles over you both and you attempt to lighten it a bit, “I suppose you could say I have a good nose for danger.”

Chekov snorts lightly and you want to ask him what’s so funny when you hear a loud click and your body coils like a spring.

“Run!”

Your order comes too late as a dark gas engulfs you both. While it slowly hardens you curse every deity you’ve heard of. Chekov swears in Russian and it’s not the time to laugh, but you can’t help the chuckle that slips through your lips.

“Now what Captain?”

“Now we wait for whoever set this trap and hope they’re friendly.”

You don’t quite catch what he mutters under his breath, but you’re sure it’s not nice so you close your eyes and hope fervently that your scattered crew is having better luck than you. By the time you hear steps approaching you’ve begun to tense your muscles for a fight that doesn’t come.

“Captain!”

“You know these men?”

You take in Scotty’s new friend carefully and when she releases you you’re tempted to lie on the ground for an extra moment or two just because it’s been that kind of day.

Scotty’s as cheerful as ever until he tells you that you and Chekov are the only crew he’s come across. Despair wages war with determination as you’re taken to Jaylah’s hideout. The USS Franklin is a sight for sore eyes; surely someone out there is all the vastness of space is on your side – that or they have a sick sense of humor. You try not to let your exhaustion show as Chekov searches for the crew and Scotty gives you the grand tour. Jaylah studies you as much as you study her, but the fact Scotty vouches for her is enough for you.

Something catches your eye in a cluttered corner of the ship and you’re reverently caressing a PX-70 without realizing it.

“My dad used to have one of these. Mom said he’d put her on the back of his – it drove her nuts.”

Her laugh rings in your ears and you’re six years old facing endless golden waves of Iowan grass with a cold popsicle in your hand with Sam laughing next to you. The memory fades when Scotty clears his throat, but the taste of nostalgia remains a constant sensation in the back of your throat.

“I intercepted a weak communication transmission Sir, on a Starfleet frequency.”

Hope pushes itself to the front of your mind, but you are cautious nonetheless. “Can you lock onto the signal?”

“Yes, but how to we get to them?”

Chekov has a point as you glace around at the retired Starship. Scotty raises his hand and his response has you wary of the repercussions.

“I have an idea, sir, but I am going to need your permission.”

“Why would you need my permission?”

“Because if I mess it up I don't want it to be just my fault.”

\- - - - - - - - - -

You’re going to give Scotty a raise the second you make it back.

“Spock!”

You rush to the transporter pad and gently guide Spock towards the door. He stumbles then grips your arm tightly and leans into you for support.

“Dr. McCoy, you must beam him aboard next.”

“Don’t you worry Mr. Spock – I’ve already got him!”

Scotty greets McCoy and you’re close behind him.

“Are you alright?” you ask them both although you already know the answer to that when you see Spock’s pale face.

“Yes, I'm fine. He's hurt,” McCoy gestures to Spock who seems determined to walk on his own.

“I'm functioning adequately, Captain.”

‘ _Liar_ ,’ you silently swear and when Spock stumbles you’re quick at his side as Jaylah helps McCoy find medical supplies.

“Lie down,” you order and Spock wisely does not disobey. The seat is stuff and unfriendly, but it’s better than having Spock stand up and bleed out. The relief currently circulating through your system must be obvious because Spock tempers his face to hide his pain and focuses on reassuring you.

“How are we gonna get out of this one, Spock? We got no ship, no crew: Not the best odds.”

It’s a testament to the bond you’ve cultivated that Spock does not hesitate, through gritted teeth, to guide you through the creeping doubt.

“We will do what we have always done Jim: We will find hope in the impossible.”

You want to laugh at the absurdity of it all, but your heart pounds faithfully in your chest at the sound of your name. You clasp his arm and will what you cannot say to be heard.

“Let’s get you all fixed up first okay?”

“Captain,” Spock slides back into professionalism without pause, “you must focus your attentions on helping the crew.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes, “That’s why I need you back Spock.”

It’s more than that, but there are eyes on your back so you slide away and let McCoy do what he does best. Scotty and Chekov pull you aside and you begin strategizing. It’s a lot like rowing up stream without a paddle and a solution seems impossible until Spock brings up the fact a gift he gave Uhura is a radioactive tracking device.

“I’d keep an eye on Bones; I’m sure he’d love nothing more than to tell Uhura about her necklace’s features.”

Spock quirks his brow and you shake your head.

Jaylah wants nothing to do with the rescue mission so you let her go. You can do it without her help; you’re determined to save them no matter what. Still – you’re curious so you follow Scotty and pride fills you as his words echo in the small room.

“My wee Granny used to say ye canna' break a stick in a bundle. You are part of something big, lassie. Don't you give up on that, because we'll sure as hell never give up on you. That is what being part of a crew is all about.”

Jaylah’s eyes are wet when she turns to ask you if that’s what you believe in.

“I don’t know,” you are honest, “But what I do know is that we could use your help.”

The plan is haphazard at best. You hear the word distraction and the smile that settles on your lips feels familiar. Reckless could be your middle name; in fact you’d almost prefer that it was.

“I don’t think I need to tell you how dangerous this is,” McCoy scowls at the bike and then turns his glare towards you.

“Something tells me you’re gonna do it anyway.”

“I have to agree with Dr. McCoy.”

You laugh and the bike roars to life.

“Of course you do.”

With that you’re speeding down the mountain as free as a bird; with a shout you narrowly miss tumbling over the edge and you can feel the combined weight of McCoy and Spock’s simultaneous heart-attacks.

You, at the very core of it all, are the definition of a distraction.

The bike back home has nothing on the classic rumbling beneath you as you skid through turns and break in time to avoid a shot to the chest. Jaylah’s clones work perfectly and you’re able to draw fire away from your crew as they dissolve in tiny pinpricks of light.

You catch sight of Uhura and Spock, they’re surrounded and as Krall’s men line up to take the shot you fly off an outcrop and create an impenetrable barrier around your crew.  You whip around them all with careless urgency and when they are beamed to safety you realize your job is not done.

Jaylah's fighting at the top of a building structure and you’ll be damned if a single man gets left behind so you tense up and rev the engine until all you hear is the roar of your blood in your ears and you’re gone.

“Jaylah now!”

You achieve lift and feel the bike slide out from underneath you at the same time your body begins to feel and nonexistent. Her hand clasps yours just in time for you both to slam onto the transporter pad like a kick in the chest.

“Let’s not to that again,” you croak: Surely one of your ribs is broken.

“I agree James T.”

With that you’re storming through the Franklin and Uhura’s ready with bad news.

“He has a weapon Captain; deadly beyond anything I’ve seen. He’s going to destroy Yorktown.”

Everything falls quiet and you try to gather yourself because you are their Captain and you can fix this, but you’re suddenly failing and it shows.

“You take my house and you make it fly.”

You don’t give it a second thought and send Scotty to the bowels of the Franklin to produce a miracle. Everyone braces for what will be the bumpiest ride of their career. Sulu’s offended countenance when you ask if he can fly the ship almost makes you feel like you’re back on the Enterprise so you face forwards as the ship begins to tip downwards and let the G-Forces slam into your injured body.

In an alternate universe the ship crashes into the planet and you all die: You know this with a certainty that frightens you.

In this universe however, the Franklin lifts from the dust and soars into space’s welcoming embrace. She is slow, but it allows you time to come up with a plan to stop the swarm. You watch McCoy and Spock vanish in a bright swirl of light and wish them the best as you approach Krall and his army.

If someone had told you earlier that you’d be using what Jaylah refers to as the “booming and shouting” to stop a madman bent on the destruction of Starfleet you would’ve sent them to Sick Bay so fast their head would spin.

However, as you turn to survey the bridge and Jaylah’s fingers itch to broadcast her music, you realize that this plan makes perfect sense for the crew of the USS Enterprise.

“Let’s make some noise.”

A wall of fire erupts before you as the beat fills the ship. Uhura sends the broadcast to Yorktown, but you’re too busy feeling the hot Iowa air brush past you in a cherry red relic of the past that also crashed into a planet.

“That’s a good choice.”

It becomes a game of tag as Sulu maneuvers the ship close to the swarm before pulling back when they crash into each other. Your foot taps to the beat and Chekov nods his head with each course correction he sets. When Krall manages to breach Yorktown you have Sulu follow him in and you track his movements from beneath the water. Spock is hot on his train and you scan the schematics for anything to give you an edge.

“Bones, there is a city plaza coming up. You have to make sure Krall will pass there.”

“Sulu, get us up there!”

When Krall’s ship crashes into the Franklin you’re all thrown forward and it’s only by the grace of your safety belts that no one goes flying.

When the dust settles you’re able to breathe long enough to set out and explore the ship.

“Captain, I have three hull breaches from the impact: Deck 3, the cargo bay and the engine room.”

You take Uhura and head to the engine room. Signs of Krall are present, but you watch as Uhura replays and video log from the original crew. Her gasp sends chills down you spine, “Captain, it’s him.”

Ignoring what should be impossible you dig into the history of Captain Balthazar Edison. His descent into bitter madness plays out in degraded videos: A great man faced with extinction at the hands of the people he swore to serve and you can understand the motivation.

Understand; but not condone.

“Scotty get in touch with Yorktown. Shut down that atmospheric regulator! That’s how he plans on distributing the poison. I’m going up.”

The building is being evacuated by the time you hit the elevators. Gravity bends and flows at the top of the core and it messes with your head. You spot Edison who looks more like himself than he did before and you push exhaustion to the side and attack; trapped in a glass cube with nowhere to go.

“What happened to you Edison?”

You’ve never been good at reasoning with people bent on doing the opposite of what you believe: You diplomacy skills have grown of course, but this isn’t a battle you’ll win with reason.

“We lost our souls, but gained the purpose: I have the means to bring the galaxy back to its struggle and to make humanity strong.”

“I think you underestimate humanity.”

Edison lashes out, “I fought for humanity! We lost millions in the Xindi and Romulan wars: And for what? For the Federation to sit me in the captain's chair and break bread with the enemy?”

Panting through the heat and ache of your muscles you keep your phaser aimed at Edison and find yourself speaking once more.

“We change, we have to. Or we spend the rest of our life fighting the same battles.”

Talk ends quickly and you’re beating each other with bloodied fists; floating and kicking in hopes of gaining the upper hand. When the glass shatters and gravity pulls you from the core’s switch you tell Edison to give up.

You’re so tired to fighting.

“What, like you did? I read your ship longs Captain James T. Kirk. At least I know what I am. I am a soldier!”

“You won the war Edison, you gave us peace!” Desperation clings to your voice as it cracks and Edison stares past you; unhearing.

“Peace is not what I was born into.”

He bolts past you and glides through the air riding the gravitational slip stream. You have no choice and fling yourself into the wide open space and catch yourself just in time. You’re too late to stop him from activating the device, but that doesn’t stop you from attacking with every ounce of strength you have left.

“You can’t stop it,” Edison spits blood onto the glass floor beneath you; “You all will die.”

Back on the bridge of the Enterprise you can see it all: The ground rushing forward to greet you as the remaining crew flees. There is no heavenly choir to illuminate the sacrifices made in the past, but you understand now more than ever the choices your father made.

“Better to die saving lives than live with taking them. That’s what I was born into.”

Scotty’s frantic voice fills the cube and you snap into action in hopes of redirecting the weapon into outer space. The first three hatches click perfectly, but the fourth one jams and with it, death is standing by you once more. Thousands of lives rest on your frail arms as you yank with all your might and suddenly Edison is behind you, ready to strike. A desperate kick flings him into the weapon and the momentum gained allows you to flip the switch.

You’re suddenly being pulled through the air towards the darkness of space. Countless things are rushing across your mind; most of them are the faces of your crew as you flail in hopes of grabbing onto anything. Perhaps the universe isn’t done with you yet because you crash into something hard and Spock has your hand. He pulls until you’re both safe within the swarm ship. How many times has he pulled you from death’s grasp now?

Gasping for breath you clutch Spock’s hand and pull it towards your chest, ignoring the awkward position and the pain in your ribs.

“What would I do without you Spock?”

He doesn’t say anything, not that you expected him to, but McCoy has a lot to say on the ride down to solid ground. You let him lecture you until everything fades into the background. It’s the first time you’ve slept in over 52 hours.

\- - - - - - - - - -

Your meeting with Commodore Paris takes place three days later after most of your broken bones have mended. You’re reminded of your last conversation and getting lost doesn’t seem like an issue anymore. You wave away her thanks, saying it wasn’t just you who saved Yorktown. You couldn’t have done it without your crew.

“Needless to say the Vice Admiral position is yours. No one deserves is more.”

You consider it for a few seconds before posing a question you already know the answer to.

“Vice Admirals don’t fly do they?”

“No they don’t.”

Months ago you were a different Captain. It seems like every time you turn around you’re leaving pieces of yourself behind to gain new ones; better ones. You’ve navigated uncharted space and seen things some people have only dreamed of; initiated first contact a handful of times and even saved races from extinction. In three years you can finally look in the mirror and approve of what you see.

Could the same be said an hour later if you take the promotion?

“No offence ma’am, but where’s the fun in that?”

Her smile is all-knowing and perhaps she’d known the first time you had spoken what your ultimate answer would be. A few traded pleasantries later and you’re free to wander Yorktown noose free and ready to explore the furthest reaches of space.

McCoy can hardly believe you and grumbles the whole way.

“By the way, where are we going? I thought we were going to get a drink?”

You’ve passed three bars already and the look on McCoy’s face has you itching to run: Until he opens the door that is.

“I know you said to keep it under wraps, but…”

“Happy Birthday!”

Your smile could light up the room as Scotty hands you a drink. Familiar faces stand out in a sea of people you’ve served with; you’ve bled with.

“To the Enterprise and to absent friends.”

There’s a bittersweet taste to the bourbon that slides down your throat as you mingle. You helped push for Jaylah’s admittance into Starfleet and Scotty’s been jolly ever since. You chit-chat with Sulu and his husband Ben and stop by to see how Chekov is fairing on his latest conquest. You’d heard through the grapevine that many of your crew had gotten offers to serve on other ships: Chekov had been one of them.

While a great opportunity to grow as a member of Starfleet, you’re a little miffed that you had to hear about the offer from some Admiral you’d just met. You’ve already written your recommendations for those offered new positions – they’ll always be a part of your crew in spirit of course. He raises his glass and there’s something akin to gratitude in his watery eyes and you wave it off before heading towards the back of the party. Spock doesn’t disappoint and settles next to you before you can take your third sip.

“I heard about Ambassador Spock.”

They had spoken roughly four months ago and when you had commented on how ill the Ambassador had been looking, he merely waved you off and asked to hear of your latest mission. You wish you had pushed more, but he hadn’t seemed sad or upset when you had sad goodbye so perhaps he was ready to go.

“Is that what you wanted to mention that time in the elevator?”

Spock is good at deflection, but he hides his deception poorly as he meets your eyes and looks away quickly.

“More or less.”

Before you can ask for clarification he hits you with a question you were not expecting.

“I trust your meeting with the Commander Paris went well.”

Well, shit. You glance over and decide to play along for the time being.

“More or less.”

Spock hums lightly and this conversation is far from over, but you’re content to stand and watch the scenery. McCoy strolls up with Uhura and the others and shakes his head at the silly grin slapped across your face.

“You really want to head back out there, huh?”

You take in the gleam of her skeleton and the way sparks fly with each new weld: The Enterprise has always been beautiful to you in every incarnation. Resting in Riverside or falling from great heights into clear waters or ragged jungles – you can’t imagine leaving her to her own devices in the hands of another Captain. With your crew standing proud and firm behind you, you take a second to down your drink and settle the glass on the windowsill.

“You have no idea Bones.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I didn't have to work tonight I'd just keep writing....
> 
> Don't worry, the endgame is still Spock/Kirk and that's the main goal of the last chapter. It's gonna be jossed eventually, but I plan on tying this up nicely with the potential for more. Please, bear with me.


End file.
